Belle or Beau
by Mina1914
Summary: Francis returns to Paris to start new, hopefully finding new love, and meets a girl at a café.
1. Chapter 1

Belle or Beau?: Part 1

Pairing: FrUK

* * *

><p>People walked down the sidewalk as Francis drove by in his red Convertible. Footsteps, the buzz of voices, and the hum of cars echoed, the sun hanging in the sky, clouds covering the vast blue.<p>

The Frenchman rested his arm on the door of the car, his blonde locks disturbed by the blow of wind. He stared through the windshield at the clouded sky, his eyes bored of the view. He clutched the top of the steering wheel, lazily lifting his arm that was resting on the door to switch the turning signal.

He wore tight black jeans, with a black belt and a loose white, long-sleeved t-shirt. It hung low on his collarbone, a short emerald necklace hanging from his neck. A silver band wound around his middle finger on his left hand, a watch around his wrist. A very lazy outfit in his opinion.

Not that he cared lately.

He approached a red light, slowing the Convertible. Once he halted in front of the red light, his eyes drifted to the girl crossing. She had very long blonde hair that reached the small of her back, her legs long and feminine, her face gentle. She had on a mid-thigh light blue skirt, a violet, silk spaghetti strap, and flip-flops. Her dark blue eyes met Francis', a slow gorgeous smile spreading over her lips.

Francis returned the gesture as she raised her hand and waggled her nail-polished fingers in a wave, before reaching the other side, her hair swishing from side to side. He had forgotten about women.

Thoughts of her in his bed made him smirk, before he laughed lightly. He hadn't been with a woman in awhile.

Green replaced the red, Francis pressing his foot lightly on the accelerator, the car progressing. He sighed, tilting his head to the side, massaging his temple with his free hand. He dropped his hand, eventually raising it to the steering wheel to turn a sharp corner.

He had missed Paris, his hometown, finally returning after two years. He returned because of the horror and sorrow he dealt with a few weeks back, becoming incredibly homesick. His mother had died. When he recieved the phone call, completely devastated, he had flown to Bordeaux from the United States immediately after packing in a rush. He was in California for work purposes, missing his native, commonly spoken language and culture.

He learned she had gotten in a car wreck. But, earlier, a few years before her death, Francis visited her once, only to leave in anger and frustration. She had insulted him, and she refused to accept him.

They were Catholic, but his mother was very religious. In his late teenage years, in highschool, he confessed that he was bisexual. His mother was appalled, only reacting with shouting and lecturing. She had tried to show him what '_God wanted_', or in other words, change his sexual orientation.

He left after that, fed up with her, to live in an apartment by himself. That was when he began his 'flirtatious' phase, picking up girls, and sometimes men. After a few months, he toned it down, realizing that love is something he couldn't experiment with.

The last time he saw his mother was during their argument, his mother ignoring his pleading for her to understand. He gave up at helping her see reason, storming out the door after she insulted him with a judging tone. He had cursed her to Hell in his head, scoffing at her betrayal.

But now, as he drove down the streets of Paris, with something missing from his heart, he realized he loved her for raising him to make him who he was. When he attended her funeral, and saw her pale face and graying hair, a few quiet tears escaped his eyes, Francis whispering solemn apologies.

That's what lead him back to Paris. This time, he decided he would change his ways, and become a better person, not coaxing women to sleep with him and to toy with love. He wanted to find love and keep it safe, staying with the person he recieves it from.

* * *

><p>The gravel beneath his tires crunched as he parked in front of an old café he used to work at, Francis switching off the vehicle as he gazed up at the structure. The whole front of it was glass, the clear windows reflecting the image of outside, making it difficult to see past.<p>

He unbuckled his seat belt, pushing open the door and stepping out onto the pavement, yanking the keys out as he stood. The door clicked shut as he squinted past the glass, only making out a few tables that were sitting beside the window.

Francis slid his keys into his jeans pocket as he approached the glass doors, curling his fingers around the door handle. His ring pressed into his skin as he pulled it open, a small bell lightly ringing. He gazed in, smiling weakly at the interior. It was different from the last time he was here, a counter was in the corner with a cash register and various items sitting on it, a wide chalk board raised onto the wall behind it, listing the different drinks and desserts.

Tables were scattered in front of it, a few sitting beside the window, the sun warming the wood. He peered around the counter as he approached it, a door wide open behind it. Once he looked in, it appeared to be a storage room. Suddenly, a girl popped out, carrying a box, her eyes widening a little, shocked to see Francis.

"Hello! Welcome!", she greeted excitedly, setting the box on the counter, exhaling deeply as she placed her hands on her hips. "Bonjour..", he replied, raising an eyebrow. She jumped a little, her mouth opening, "O-Oh! Right, um..bonjour!" He laughed, "Hello, how are you, miss?" She stared at him before nervously laughing, "Ha..you speak English?"

"Oui. Do you know French? It would be useful since we are in Paris."

She brushed her surprisingly long, jet black hair behind her hair out of habit. "Actually..", a light laugh, "I wish I could, but no. But, my co-worker is fluent if you're more comfortable with it.", she glanced back, noticing the door. She reached back and shut it as Francis watched, "No, it's fine with me either way. May I..ask for your name?" She turned to him and smiled before raising her hand in a jerk, "Johanna!" She had rare, violet eyes.

He awkwardly accept the handshake, not used to this greeting or the invitation of it from women, "Francis Bonnefoy." She shook his hand before motioning to a table, "Sit wherever you like, and my friend will come out to serve you, Mr. Bonnefoy."

_Hm_. He wasn't used to that card being played. That meant she was taken. She wasn't really his type anyways. "Please. Call me Francis, Ms. Johanna."

She smiled sweetly, before nodding, "Okay, Francis." He returned the smile before turning and pacing to the table closest to the window. He slid onto the wooden seat, the wood warm beneath him, the sun beating down on it for awhile. It creaked as he crossed his legs, Francis resting his elbow on the wooden table, resting his cheek in his palm. He gazed out the window, his hair brushing down his shoulder.

It must not be a busy day. But, he smiled to himself, loving the new set up of the caf . Cars drove by outside, Francis watching them, his thoughts wandering. He jumped, feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He fished it out, exhaling in annoyance with a sad smile on his lips once he read the contact. He flipped it open, pressing it to his ear.

"'Allo, Antonio."

"Ey Francis..How's it going?"

"Fine, why?"

"Um, yeah, just want to know how you're holdin' up, we miss- No! Gilbert I talked to him for a few seconds! Wait-"

Francis listened as shouting and laughing began on the other line, a smile spreading over his lips. "For fucks isake/i, Gilbert!", he heard Antonio curse, laughing erupting that sounded like hissing. The phone muffled rustling noises.

"Heeey, Franny! Man, 'Toni's so uptight!"

Francis facepalmed but laughed into the phone, "Hey, Gil. Same as always, I see." Silence began on the other side for a few seconds, "Yeah, man, but y'know..ain't the same without our girly Franny.." Francis smile weakened, he dropped his hand, staring at the table. "Oui, but..", he paused, thinking about his two friends. "Yeah, miss you guys too.", he began, listening to Gilbert's breathing.

"Yeah, yeah, I don't wanna get all gushy and shit so here's 'Toni 'gain."

The phone made muffled noises again as Gilbert passed it to Antonio. Francis laughed nervously at himself, wondering when he got so attached to them.

"Hey, Francis."

"Antonio, is the phone on speaker?"

"..No. Why?"

Francis paused, gathering his thoughts. "I moved away because of my mother, you realize that, right?", he began bluntly. "Yeah." Francis glanced out the window, "Well..I also want to find love, not just the basic idea of 'women'." Antonio remained silent.

"I..also want to start over..", Francis added.

"You have us, and we support you, Francis. Gilbert left the room so I'll tell you. He's really torn up about it. He loved the idea of us hangin' out all the time, y'know? We really _do_ miss you." Francis smiled sadly, "Yes, I know. I miss you too, but it's only been a few weeks, and I'm planning to stay. Tell Gilbert what I told you, and Antonio?"

"..Yeah?", Antonio sounded solemn as Francis paused. "I'm..sorry.", he finished, dropping his eyes.  
>"Me too. See you, Francis."<p>

Francis nodded before exhaling in a rush, "Adieu, Antonio." The line ended, Francis dropping his hand, snapping the phone shut. He sighed, hiding his face in his hands. He let his closest friends down, the only people he could depend on. He heard footsteps begin in his direction. He dropped his hands onto the table, glancing up to the approaching figure. He smiled at what he saw.

A woman approached, who looked to be in her twenties, who wore a knee-length black skirt, a shirt which appeared to be a uniform, and checkered _Converse_ slip-ons. She had short, chopped sand-colored hair that was disheveled and poking in various directions. Her piercing emerald eyes bore into him as she walked up to the table.

She had wide eyebrows that were frozen in a frown, as well as her lips. Francis drifted his eyes low, noticing her_ very_ nice, feminine legs. She was completely flat-chested, from what Francis could see, and had a strong, almost manly, jaw. Francis smiled.

"Que voulez-vous, monsieur?", she boredly asked, not smiling, out of routine. She must be Johanna's co-worker. Francis' smile widened, "Bonjour, café, s'il vous plaît."

She nodded before turning and mumbling, "Stupid frog.."

"Excuse me?"

She froze, surprised he spoke English, before glancing back at him, "Nothing." He laughed quietly, the waitress turning and walking past the counter, to the kitchen. He heard the clatter of dishes and cursing. Francis' thoughts drifted to her, thinking of her face and low voice. He decided that she was his type, the Frenchman imagining her as his lover.

Those thoughts drifted to them in bed, of their skin touching, their lips arguing, and their legs tangled. The gasps and pauses of her breath, the grip of her hands, and the lift of her chest after each intake of breath. He smiled, closing his eyelids to focus on the scene in his head.

A few minutes passed before he heard the tapping of footsteps, opening his eyes to a steaming mug of coffee being set before him. He lifted his eyes to the short-haired waitress.

"Anything else?"

He noticed her heavy British accent. He remained silent, studying little details of her face. She had heavy mascara and eye-liner on, that shadowed the green in her eyes. He also noticed multiple piercings in both ears, all earrings black. A very small scar sat below her right eyebrow.

All in all, her face was _sexy_ in his opinion. Once he lowered his eyes, he saw her collarbone exposed, her pale skin covering the bone. He wanted to bite it, pressing dents from his teeth into her skin, leaving questionable marks. Then run his tongue over the red, sore skin, causing her to shiver. He felt blood rush south as well as up into his cheeks.

"_Well?_"

He stored those thoughts for later, raising his aqua eyes from her collarbone to hers. "Non, merci.", he smiled at her sincerily, wanting to stand and press his lips to hers to know what they felt like. She raised her hand to her cheek and scratched it lightly, "Right. If you need anything, just call me, yeah?" Francis noticed the chipped black nail polish on her nails and a couple rings.

None on her ring finger.

He didn't want her to leave so soon, "May I ask for your name, mademoiselle?" She dropped her hand, staring at him with a blank face. Her eyes said_ 'No'_, but she spoke otherwise.

"Alice."

"Just Alice?"

_Sigh._ "No. Alice Kirkland."

He smiled. Alice Kirkland. Definitely from England with a name like that. But, he liked it anyways. Suited her. She took his pause as an opportunity to turn, but he stopped her with more conversation.

"Are you from England?", he flipped his hair back with his hand, slightly mocking her. She turned back to him on her heels, her lip twitching in annoyance, her eyes pissed. "Yeah, I'm from England, got a bloody problem with that?", she crossed her arms, pride radiating off of her attitude. Francis switched his crossed legs, smiling at her, "Non, just curious to why a _Brit_ is in Paris."

"I'm in _Paris_ because of work.", she sneered his hometown's name, glowering at him. Francis' patience sliced in half. But, he remained composed, "Work?"

"Yes. I'm planning to become a dance teacher, teaching teenagers and children to dance. Things like Waltz."

When Alice explained it, her face softened slightly, but she still stared at Francis in annoyance. The Frenchman was slightly shocked, expecting her to do something more fitted to her appearance and personality. But after all, he didn't know much about her. He really wanted to learn more.

"_Oh?_ Why dancing?", he smiled tenderly, imagining her dancing. He loved what was displayed in his head. "Because..", she began, dropping her crossed arms. She folded her hands, hanging them in front of her, "I just love it I guess, it's one of the very few things that make me truly happy."

He remained silent, surprised by her words. She noticed his silence and laughed nervously, "Right..well.."

"..Are you single?", he asked suddenly, in a blunt, demanding tone. Alice paused, annoyance flashing across her face as if she's always asked that. "Yes, and I'm planning to keep it that way.", she raised her voice in a defensive tone. Francis raised a brow. She was hard to get. He grinned.

"Oh, I apologize.", he replied, resting his elbow on the table. "Like bloody hell you are.", Alice shot back, turning and striding to the door behind the counter. She yanked it open and slammed it behind her once she strode in. Johanna was sitting at the counter, watching the whole performance. She sighed quietly, eyeing Francis warily before returning to her phone.

Francis lifted his wrist, reading his wristwatch. It was 3:09 p.m. He lowered his hand to his knee, thinking to himself, listening to the buzz of cars and the beeping of Johanna's phone as her fingers tapped against the keys.

After a minute, he opened his sketchbook that was sitting on the small table, turning to a blank page. He always brought it along everywhere he went, sketching out things and people he saw. But, he hasn't in weeks, only an attempt at drawing his mother, which he couldn't finish.

Francis glanced up, noticing Johanna watch with curious, violet eyes. She smiled once he looked, before dropping her eyes to her phone in her hands. He pulled a pencil out before raising it to the blank paper.

He lightly slid it over the paper after thinking, drawing the basic shape of a jaw. Once he sketched out an egg shape for a head, he began to add details. Every once in awhile, he paused to take a drink of his coffee.

After about ten minutes, he heard the creak of the storage room's door, Francis glancing up. Alice quietly stepped out, shutting the door behind her, not wanting to disturb the silence. She took a few steps to Johanna, sitting in the seat beside her.

"Hey, Johanna.", she said quietly, defeat in her voice. Francis lowered his head slightly to seem as if he wasn't paying attention, his eyes raised to the two girls.

"What's the matter, Alice?", he heard Johanna whisper, placing a comforting hand on her friend's bicep. Alice's voice lowered, Francis unable to hear her words, only seeing her lips move.

Johanna sighed before lightly hugging Alice, her long black hair following her arms. Francis dropped his eyes to his sketch, studying the very detailed, short hair. He studied the way it poked in various directions, Francis adding a light shade of lead to the inside.

It had taken him half an hour to complete the wide eyebrows, the chopped hair, and the pierced ears. He closed the sketchbook, deciding to continue it later, returning it to the table as well as the pencil. He downed the rest of his coffee before standing.

The Frenchman wandered past Johanna and Alice, the short-haired one throwing him a glare once he winked at her.  
>He walked to the back of the café, to the restrooms.<p>

* * *

><p>After he returned to his seat, crossing his legs and arms, he stared at the table, his hair falling past his shoulders, hiding his face. He heard the hushed whispers of the girls, not caring to strain his ears.<p>

He thought about Alice. Thinking about her interest in dancing, her accent, her face, her personality, and her body.

He wanted her. But how was he going to get her?

Maybe the whole idea with 'love' should be focused on someone else. But..maybe something could happen, if he put effort into it. Well, love idid/i require effort after all.

The only time he had true love was years ago, but she died. He had gotten over her death before, but now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if it would be the same.

Not that he wanted it to be. Every love was different, in it's own way. He'll try.

His thoughts were interrupted by footsteps approaching him. He glanced up to see Alice walking to him, her lips in a frown. She curled her fingers through the mug's handle, lifting it to hold it in her hands. Francis smiled up at her.

"You want a refill?"

"S'il vous plaît."

She returned to the kitchen, Francis hearing her pour the coffee. The door opened, Alice walking out. She approached the table, setting the steaming mug in front of him. He thanked her before lifting it to his lips.

As he drank, she remained standing there, staring at him. He noticed, lowering the coffee to the table, "Quoi?"

"What do you do?"

"Women."

"I meant _work_, wanker."

He chuckled, lowering his eyes. "I paint." She laughed loudly, dropping her head before looking up at him, "_You paint._" He quirked an eyebrow with a smile on his lips, her laughter a nice surprise to him. "_Oui_, I do.", he gestured to his sketchbook on the table.

She raised her eyebrows and reached out to the sketchbook, "May I..?" He nodded, Alice lifting it off the table top, watching Francis as he shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "If you don't want me to look..", she murmured, eyeing him warily, holding the sketchbook in her hands.

"Non, it is alright.", he smiled lightly, glad she cared. Alice turned it to a random page, her eyes growing solemn. "Who is this?", she turned to show Francis, the paper representing a woman's portrait, her hair short and wavy. Her eyes looked dead and blank.

Francis forgot about that one. He laughed lightly, averting his eyes from the drawing. "She's..she_ was _my love.", he dropped his eyes, a not-so-smile on his lips. "Why does she look like..this?", Alice asked, staring down at the sketch with dark eyes, her eyelashes hiding them.

"She died."

Alice looked up at him before lowering them, "..I'm sorry." Francis looked out the window, not knowing what to say to that. Alice closed the sketchbook, not wanting to see anymore. Francis continued to look out the window as Alice sat across from him, setting the sketchbook in front of him. She crossed her legs beneath the table,  
>folding her arms.<p>

She dropped her eyes, her eyelashes hiding the green. Francis averted his aqua eyes to her face, raising them to her sand-colored hair.

"Y'know..I lost someone special as well."

Francis lowered his eyes to her face, watching her eyelashes blink, her lips pursing, her eyebrows furrowing. "She was the only one..who accept me, for who I was.", she raised her eyes to meet his, Francis noticing the water in them. She stood suddenly, facing away from him, "But I don't want to talk about it." She raised her hand to wipe something from her cheek, before she walked away to sit with Johanna.

Francis sat there, slightly stunned. After a few minutes he stood, grabbing his sketchbook. He placed Euros on the table before he began to walk to the door.

"Hey! Have a nice night!", he heard Johanna call, turning to face them. He smiled, before flickering his eye's to Alice's. She frowned at him, Francis turning away to open the glass door and step out. He left the full cup of coffee on the table, as well as his number.

* * *

><p>'<em>Something has changed.<em>', the Frenchman thought as he laid on his bed, on top of the comforter, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. He turned his face to the wall beside him. He thought about Alice's expression as she sat across from him yesterday. He thought about her laughter, a grin spreading over his lips. He wondered what her bare body looked like, closing his eyelids at the thought.

Small, perky breasts, long feminine legs, flat stomach, and slender arms. He smiled, wishing she were here right now. He sat up, turning to the night stand to grab his sketchbook as well as a pencil. He sat against the headboard, flipping open to the latest page. He stared down at the incomplete portrait, studying the hair and eyebrows. He lowered the pencil to the paper and began to trace out the basic shape of her lips.

* * *

><p>The unfinished portrait of Alice sat on his smoothed-out comforter, all of her features drawn besides the most important. Her eyes. No matter how many times he attempted to draw her dark-looking eyes, they always came out imperfect.<p>

And Francis was not a perfectionist, but it was important to him to get the eyes right on every thing or person he drew. To him, they were the most charming feature on someone's appearance. But, for Alice's eyes, he couldn't figure out what was wrong.

He ignored it, sorting through his closet for a shirt. He paused on a black turtleneck. brushing his fingers down the smooth cotton. "Hmm..", he murmured, tapping his forefinger on his bottom lip, thinking what jeans could match.

The hanger clinked as he yanked it off the bar, pacing back to the bed, setting the turtleneck on the comforter. He eyed the sketchbook, tsking at the open page before turning away, walking to his dresser. The drawer creaked as he slid it open, the Frenchman lifting out a dark blue pair of jeans. He tossed them onto the bed, shutting the dresser before he returned to the foot of the bed.

He curled his fingers around his light blue, fleece sweater, which he always slept in, before lifting it over his head, his blonde locks lifting. They fell back down onto his broad shoulders, a few strands sticking up into the black turtleneck and jeans, he checked his wristwatch, the hands representing 8:29 p.m.

Francis pulled his hair into a low ponytail, his bangs brushed to the side. He gathered his sketchbook and a book into a shoulder strap bag, sliding on his silver ring before pulling on a pair of dress shoes.

The door to his apartment quietly creaked as he slid it open, the Frenchman switching the light off before locking the door. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, the pavement below his feet crunching as he approached his Convertible. After unlocking the door, he yanked it open, falling onto the leather seats with a heaved sigh.

It's been a few days since he visited the café, Francis' thoughts always intruded by Alice, urging him to see her once more. So, fed up with the constant fail of his sketch and the pestering of his thoughts, he began to pull out of the parking lot, onto the road.

* * *

><p>The light ring of the bell echoed as he pulled open the glass door to the café, the Frenchman pausing from the amount of people sitting at the tables. He averted his eyes to the back of the café, most of the tables filled by college students.<p>

"Ah, welcome!", he heard someone call, turning to the familiar, friendly voice. As expected, Johanna approached him, a bright smile on her lips, her black long hair bouncing behind her. A little _too_ cheerful for his taste.

"Francis! How are you! Glad you came back!", she said over the buzz of conersation, Francis curious to why she had come to like him. Maybe she was kind to everyone, even if they were the wrong type of people. Francis didn't doubt it. He forced a light smile, averting his eyes away from her to scan the tables.

He noticed a girl with short hair standing in front of a taken table, a note-pad in her hand. He instantly felt his smile grow, his heart melting, much to his own surprise. She wore a different skirt then last time, Francis grinning at how it was shorter, revealing half of her thigh-

"So, Francis, please take a seat wherever you like..", Johanna interrupted his explicit thoughts. He returned his aqua eyes to her violets, "Oui, merci." She nodded before returning to the counter, tending to a customer at the cash register.

He watched Alice scribble down the couple's order, forcing a decent smile that Francis laughed at, before she returned to the kitchen. Francis paced to his former table beside the large window, sliding his bag off his shoulder, before he sat down, the wooden chair creaking below him. He smiled at the sound, glad he returned. Francis crossed his legs, fishing out his book, placing it on the table.

He glanced around the café, noticing a third employee taking someone's order. He didn't care much for her look's, more interested in finding Alice. His eyes wandered to the kitchen's door, the Frenchman's grin sliding across his face once it opened on cue to reveal the short-haired Brit.

She had two drinks in her hands, her lips in a straight line. He watched as she placed them on the table in front of the couple, before she tended to a different table. Francis dropped his eyes to the book's cover, reading the title.

'_Les Misérables_'.

He slid the cover open to the first page before he pulled his reading glasses out of his bag, slipping them onto the bridge of his nose. He began to read the text, the buzz of voices echoing in his ears.

After he read the first few pages, he grew bored of the book, having read it multiple times before. He returned it to the table, reaching up to slide his glasses off his nose. But before he could, a voice interrupted his movements.

"Hey."

He glanced up, dropping his hand and smiling. Alice stood in front of his table, her arms crossed, her eyes annoyed. "Bonjour.", he greeted, grinning up at her. She stared down at him. Francis lowered his eyes to her legs, his eyes fixed on her thighs.

"My eyes are up here, prick.", she growled, dropping her crossed arms to pull down on her skirt, even though it didn't help cover skin than it already was. Francis looked back up at her, a smile on his lips, noticing a light shade of blush on her cheeks. But her expression was still representing annoyance.

"Nice to see you again, amour.", he purred teasingly, winking at her. She scowled at him, "I'm not your '_amour_' bastard, now what do you want?"

Francis grinned widely, glad he came back to see her. "Coffee and a strawberry_ Bavarois_, s'il vous plaît." Alice nodded weakly, but she remained to stand there, her hands gripping the front of her skirt. Francis watched her as she averted her eyes from his, her lips twitching.

"I-I don't mean to pry..but..do you wear glasses?", she finally spoke, her eyes avoiding his in embarrassment. What a strange question. Did she have a thing for guys in glasses? Francis laughed lightly at her awkward actions. He reached up and slid his glasses off his nose, "Non, only for reading."

She relaxed a little, returning her bottle green eyes to his, her hands loosening on her skirt. "Why?", he folded his glasses and placed them on the table beside his book. Alice looked back at the kitchen door before returning her gaze to Francis, "No reason.." She paused, "Er, so a coffee right?"

"Oui.", he watched as Alice nodded, before she turned on her heels and began to walk towards the kitchen. He lowered his blue eyes down her back, pausing them below her hips, smiling at the view. Suddenly, Alice turned her head back to look at him.

She caught him staring, Francis raising his eyes to her annoyed scowl. Francis grinned, Alice turning away before she stormed into the kitchen. Francis smiled to himself, dropping his eyes to his hands in his lap. He twirled his silver ring around his middle finger, his thoughts drifting to Jeanne, when she gave it to him.

'_Francis, you have to promise me. You have to keep this safe. It's been passed down my family, from my father to you. He told me, that once I find love, I were to give this to them. And, you are to give this to our eldest child._'

That was years ago. He always wondered what was so special about the ring. She had told him to give it to their eldest child, which they haven't had yet, but does that mean to _his_ eldest child?

Neither of them knew she would die. Does she mean who he ends up with, to give the ring to _their _child? What if he falls in love with a man? What then?

His thoughts were shoved away by the loud clink of his coffee being set on the table. He raised his eyes to Alice's. Her face was concerned.

"You okay?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused, "Quoi? Yes, I'm fine, why do you ask?" She frowned, raising her hand to touch him on the shoulder, "Your expression..I mean, you looked scared for a second.." He stared up at her, stunned. She blinked a few times, before she pulled her hand away, "Er, nevermind. It's not my bussiness."

She turned away from him, pacing to the kitchen and shutting the door behind her. Francis furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, staring at the door. She had a soft side after all. He sighed, dropping his eyes to the steaming coffee.

* * *

><p>The bell rang as another satisfied customer left the café, now only a few people occupying the back of the caf . Francis looked out the window, at the dark sky, tapping his finger on his thigh.<p>

Why was he still here? Waiting for Alice to start conversation with him? She was just his waitress. Why would she? He had finished his _Bavarois_ awhile ago, his dishes already taken.

He averted his eyes to his forearm, pulling back the sleeve of his turtleneck to glance at his watch. 10:25 p.m. He never took this long. Why wasn't he attempting to talk or flirt with her?

The kitchen door opened, Alice walking out with a mig in her hand. Francis watched as she approached his table, setting the cup of coffee in front of him.

Francis thanked her, dropping his eyes to his finger that was tapping his thigh.

"Are you waiting for someone, frog?", Alice spoke, looking down at him. Francis averted his gaze to her emerald eyes. He laughed to himself, "Yeah, but I don't think she'll notice." Alice arched a brow, before she sighed. She sat across from him, "When is she coming?"

"She's already here."

Alice remained silent as she leaned back into her chair, crossing her arms. "What do you mean?", she asked, looking down at her crossed legs. Francis smiled at her lightly, "I've been waiting for her to notice." Alice raised her eyes to his, before she laughed.

"That is your lame attempt at a pickup-line?"

Francis' eyebrows raised, his finger curling back into it's place. He remained silent, his eyes locked with Alice's. She grinned, and laughed again before she leaned over, resting her forearms on the table.

"Look. We both know you have no interest in me, and take my word for it, I'm not planning to let you _fuck_ me anytime soon. If I were to not get fired, I would hit you. Not to mention, you could do a lot better with your looks.", she smirked as she said this, watching Francis with mocking eyes.

The Frenchman arched an eyebrow, surprised at her knowledge in 'men'. He held back laughter, placing a hand over his mouth before dropping it. He thought about his response, Alice leaning back into her chair, crossing her arms once more.

"Why not slap?"

"Why don't I rip your dick off?"

Francis was about to speak but she held up a finger, "Those questions have answers, but they will have to wait." Francis stared at her, biting on his bottom lip to restrain more laughter. "How old are you anyways?", she asked, Francis pausing. He ran his fingers through his bangs, "Twenty-seven. You?"

"Twenty-three."

"Hmm..", he hummed as he lifted his coffee to his lips, taking a drink. Alice stared at him, her eyebrows furrowed, "What was with your number? Why did you leave it?" Francis lowered his coffee, his eyes dropped, thinking about his reply.

"Because I wanted you to have it."

"Why?"

"I wanted you to be able to call someone that doesn't know much about you, so you could talk to them without worrying about being judged. Does that make sense?"

Alice remained silent, dropping her eyes, before she spoke. "Yeah.", she glanced at the clock on the wall. "My shift's over.", she avoided his eyes. Francis watched as she stood, her footsteps repeating as she walked to the back of the café.

Francis stared at the direction she left, wondering about her life outside of work. Who was her 'special person' that died? Did she have family? He paused, noticing how recently he's been asking himself a lot of questions.

Minutes passed before he heard the creak of a door. Johanna and Alice emerged from the back of the café. Alice had changed into a loose, grey sweater with tight black jeans, a bag slung over her shoulder. Her bottle green eyes were distant, her gaze dropped.

"Get home safe, okay Alice?", Johanna spoke up, wrapping her arms around Alice's waist. Alice lightly hugged back, her thoughts snapped away by her hug. They separated, Johanna smiling. "Right..", the short-haired Brit murmured, looking as if she didn't care. She pulled on the end of her sleeve, the cotton sheilding her hand.

"Bye.", she said, Johanna returning the phrase. Alice approached the door, curling her fingers around the handle. She paused as Johanna walked away, staring at the door. Francis watched her as she averted her eyes to his.

"Thank you.", she mumbled, dropping her eyes. She yanked the door open before she hurried out, the door sliding shut as she strode away. Francis stared at her back as she walked in the opposite direction, slightly confused. Her figure disappeared in the darkness, Francis sighing.

No use on staying any longer. He stood, grabbing his book and glasses, sliding them into his bag, placing Euros on the table. The bell rang as he pulled the door open, the Frenchman striding out before Johanna could notice. He walked to his Convertible, yanking the door open once he unlocked it, falling onto the leather seat.

Why did she thank him? Because of his number? He shook off the questions for later. The engine purred to life once he turned the key, the gravel crunching beneath the tires once he backed up. He turned out of the parking lot, onto the street.

The wind blew his ponytail lightly, Francis reaching back to slide his hairband out, his hair falling down onto his shoulders. He ran his fingers through the blonde locks before he slid the hairband onto his wrist. As he reached down to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from his jeans, he noticed someone standing at a small bridge that stood over a river, their head dropped over the edge, looking down at the rushing water.

He paused, slowing down the car. He pulled his car to a stop at the side of the road, staring at the person. They had short, blonde hair and had on a loose fitted, grey sweater with tight black jeans.

_Oh._ Francis reached up to shut his car off, pulling the key out as he quietly opened his door, standing before clicking it shut behind him. He left his bag on the seat, the Frenchman silently crossing the street towards the bridge.

He adjusted his turtleneck's collar and sleeves, running a hand through his hair once more before sliding his hands into his jean's pockets. As quiet as he could, he approached the bridge, stepping onto the ancient stone, walking up to her.

"It's dangerous to be out here alone at this time, amour.", he spoke, his breath blowing out in a cloud of fog. She snapped her head up, turning to Francis. Francis noticed the tears sliding down her cheeks, her eyes red and sore, shock on her features.

Alice jerked her hand up to swipe the tears roughly off her cheeks, "Wh-What are you doing here? Did you follow me?" Her voice cracked, Francis sadly smiling. He remained silent, sliding his hands out of his pockets to lean against the stone wall, his forearms resting on the edge.

He watched the river flow by, fog blowing out from his nose. Alice watched him with confusion before she followed suit, resting against the bridge's wall beside him. Francis' hair fell down past his shoulders, resting against his black turtleneck, occasionally blowing back from the wind.

Eventually, he reached down to pull his pack of cigarettes out of his jeans, standing straight to slide one out and place it between his lips, Alice watching from the corner of her eyes. He retrieved his lighter, a flame shooting out once he lit it up, casting light on their faces.

He raised his hand to slide his fingers on both sides of the cigarette, holding the flame up to the end. It burned a bright red, Francis inhaling the cancer as he leaned onto the wall, dropping his hand from his lips. Smoke blew from his nose, Alice arching a brow.

"You smoke?", she asked, slightly scooting closer, a hint of smile on her lips. The red of the cigarette stood out as Francis returned it to his lips and inhaled. "_Oui_.", he breathed, smoke billowing out from his mouth. He averted his eyes to hers, "Do vous?" She smirked.

"In a matter-of-fact, I do, frog.", she batted her eyelashes mockingly, hunching her shoulders. He laughed, pulling his pack out, holding it up to her. She slid one out in a yank, placing it between her lips, the cigarette sitting between her fore and middle fingers. Francis held the lit lighter up to her cigarette, the end burning a bright red.

He returned the lighter to his pocket, lifting the bud of his cigarette to his lips. He lowered his forearm onto the stone, smoke blowing out of his nose. He looked over at Alice, the Brit's eyes distant as she blew smoke from her lips, her hand lingering in front of her face, the cigarette burning between her fingers.

"Do you find guys who wear glasses attractive?", he asked, curiousity getting the best of him. She flickered her eyes to his, before dropping her hand, averting her eyes. "Non.", she returned the cigarette to her lips before dropping her hand again to speak, her eyes fixed on the river.

"But, I do for men who smoke.", she returned her eyes to his, a sneer on her lips. "_Oh?_", he grinned, flicking his cigarette, the ash falling into the water. She laughed, "I'd rather not explain." Francis smiled, returning the bud to his lips.

They watched the river, Francis thinking about Antonio and Gilbert. The ash on his cigarette began to slowly build, his eyes fixed distantly on the rushing river.

"The 'special person' that died was my mother.", Alice spoke suddenly, her eyes dropped as she raised the cigarette to her lips. Francis snapped out of his thoughts, averting his aqua eyes to her face. He remained silent, Alice furrowing her eyebrows, her lips in a frown.

"She was the only person who accepted me, we got along so well, we did everything together. But, my dad neglected me completely, ashamed and disappointed of me. She tried to talk reason into him, they often argued, but the bloody prick ignored her too until he abandoned us, the bastard. My mother tried her best to be cheerful and support me, but she wasn't the same."

Francis watched her as she explained, her eyes lowered. iIs that why she was crying?/i His mother was the opposite of hers. What was he supposed to say? Sorry? What did her mother 'accept' and why didn't her father? Both of their mothers are dead.

She probably heard 'sorry' enough. "My mother was the opposite.", he decided on saying, his eyes fixed on her. She raised her eyes to his, her eyes curious. He lightly laughed, turning his head to face the water, his hair falling down past his shoulders.

"She..insulted me and tried to _change_ me. But..I ran away, tired of her and her disgusted glares. For my father..I never met him. And she never mentioned him."

Alice flicked her cigarette into the river, Francis furrowing his eyebrows. "Why?", she asked,  
>hugging herself to escape the cold. "Quoi?", he glanced at her. "Why did she do all that rubbish?", Alice stared at him, her eyes locked with his.<p>

"Why did your father leave? I'll answer once you do.", he replied, watching her as annoyance flashed across her face. She huffed, leaning back against the wall beside Francis, "Forget it then." Francis slightly smiled, expecting nothing else.

He remained silent for a few seconds. "But I realized that I love her very much, and I'm thankful she took care of me.", Francis added, a sad smile on his lips. Alice returned her eyes to him, her eyes studying him. "Why don't you go see her?", Alice asked, her eyes fixed on him.

"She died a few weeks ago."

"..I'm sorry."

"So am I."

Alice didn't reply to that.

* * *

><p>They stood there for awhile in silence, Francis occasionally returning his cigarette to his lips, until Alice pulled her forearms off the bridge's wall. Francis eyed her, before he stood straight as well, his cigarette between his fingers.<p>

"Well..I need to get home..", she began, crossing her arms. Francis nodded before he noticed that they were the same height. He glanced at her feet, surprised that she was wearing only _Converse_ slip-ons. She was tall.

When he looked back up, Alice was smiling a little. Francis stared as she closed the distance between them, placing a cold hand on his cheek. Francis felt his heart accelerate as she leaned forward. She kissed him on the other cheek, before she dropped her hand. Francis felt his cheeks heat up.

"Catch you later, frog.", she grinned, Francis' breath pausing at the beauty. "Au revoir..", he stuttered quickly, his thoughts racing for something to say. Alice turned and began to walk in the opposite direction, Francis watching her.

"Does this make us.._amis_?", Francis raised his voice as she stepped off the bridge. She laughed as she turned her head back to look at him, "I suppose." Francis grinned as she began to walk away, watching until she turned a corner.

He turned on his heels, and strode off the bridge, and approached his car across the street, yanking open his door. He slid onto the sand-colored seat, pulling open the built-in ashtray, before he smashed the cigarette into the black metal.

* * *

><p>End of Part 1<p>

_Translations:_

Bonjour - Hello

Oui - Yes

Amour - Love

Au revoir - Goodbye

Amis - Friends

Thank you all for reading/reviewing! eue


	2. Chapter 2

Belle or Beau?: Part 2

Pairing: FrUK

* * *

><p>"Hey, welcome back.", Francis heard a voice greet him as he pulled the glass door to the café open, the bell ringing. Francis glanced up, his blue eyes meeting dark, green irises. He noticed the small smile on her lips.<p>

"Bonjour, amour.", he replied with a sincere smile, reaching up to brush his bangs back. Alice had on the same black skirt, as well as the uniform's matching shirt. As usual, she had five black earrings in both ears, heavy eye-liner, and the uneven hairstyle. This time, there was a black barrette in her hair, to keep her bangs in-check.

She turned to the kitchen, "Is that your pet name for me, frog?" Francis grinned as he sat at his table, "I could ask you the same thing." She began to walk towards the kitchen, "Coffee, right?"

"Oui."

Francis had returned the next day, a few days ago, after their conversation on the bridge, and since then, he would visit the café. To be more exact, to visit _Alice_. And most times, she would sit across from him, and 'open up' to him and they would talk. At one point, Johanna had told him that she really had grown to like him, since she barely talked to other people, much less men. Why didn't she? Had something happened? But then again, she wasn't so quiet after all. What did Johanna mean?

What did Alice think of him?

A clink sounded as Alice set the coffee in front of him. Francis stared into the dark brown liquid, his eyes distant in thought. He didn't notice she was still standing there; until she spoke.

"Hey, you okay? You seem distracted lately.", she asked, lifting her hand to scratch her cheek. Francis raised his eyes to hers, "Non, I'm fine." She nodded, before warily looking back. "If you'll excuse me, I have..", she trailed off awkwardly, returning her eyes to his.

"Don't mind me.", he smiled, before she turned away from him. He watched as she approached a table with customers, his eyes drifting over her slender legs. He always found himself looking at her body. Well, he did usually admire a woman's body, seeing as how he loved the human body, but not as much as he did for Alice's.

His eyes would always wander to her legs, arms, collarbone, shoulders, and even her eyebrows. Her figure looked so gorgeous. Not just her body, but _she_ was. And each time he got the chance to gaze into her eyes, he became hypnotized by the dark and light shades of green, his eyes never leaving hers. Until she broke her gaze away from him.

His thoughts were snapped away from him once he noticed her watching him. She lightly smiled before she returned to the customers. He felt his heart increase it's rate, his eyes fixed on her back. He exhaled deeply, blown away by her soft smile.

For some reason, he felt nervous, the anxious feeling building in his chest. He lifted his coffee to his lips, tilting it slightly to welcome the warm liquid into his mouth, a hum of delight in his throat. He lowered the mug onto the table with a clink, his aqua eyes lifting to Alice once more.

She had dealt with the customers, turning to leave to the kitchen. Francis sighed, lifting a hand to slide his fingers through his locks, dropping his hand and eyes to the table. His thoughts drifted to Alice again, the Frenchman growing annoyed at the habit, hiding his face in his hands, resting his elbows on the table top.

A minute passed before he heard the chair across from him unsettle, the wood creaking. He remained silent, staring at his palms before he leaned back from his hands, his eyes staring into Alice's hypnotizing, bottle green orbs. She was resting her chin in her hands, her elbow propped on the table, her eyes watching him.

"Quoi?", he asked, studying her blank expression. "What have you been thinking about?", she pried, her eyes darting up and down his face, as if she was trying to read what was going on behind it. Francis arched a brow as he rested his arms on the table, hearing the demanding tone in her words.

_You._ "A girl."

Alice averted her stare from him before returning it. "Oh, really? Are you together?", she asked, her eyes fixed on Francis'. Francis leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms, his eyes dropped, "Non.". He paused as he raised his eyes to meet hers once more, "But, I think..I'm in love with her." He smiled lightly, noting every detail on her face, and the mixtures of hues in her irises.

Alice dropped her hand from her chin, sitting back, "Tell me about her." Francis stared into her mesmerizing eyes as he thought, the Frenchman coming up with nothing to describe her that sums it all up. "I..can't describe her.", he decided on saying, feeling his heart thud against his chest, feeling blood rush into his cheeks. He lightly clenched his hands in his lap.

"What do you mean?", she continued, furrowing her eyebrows at the blush on Francis' cheeks. The beats of his heart rang in his ears, Francis curious to why he was nervous. "I mean..", he dropped his eyes before raising them to hers, "I can't describe her beauty and perfection. I can't put it into words." Alice smiled lightly, "Does she have the same feelings for you?" Francis laughed lightly to himself, "I sincerely doubt it."

"Why don't you go tell her how you feel, stupid? You aren't a bloody child."

"I fear she'll reject me.", Francis replied, his eyes fixed on hers. Alice stared back before she dropped her eyes to her hands on the table. She stared at her fingers, and picked at her black nail polish, her eyebrows furrowed in thought and frustration. "Are you so sure she will..?", she asked, her fingers growing still. Francis smiled at her as she returned her eyes to him.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I want to learn more about you.", she snapped back bluntly, staring at him with stern eyes. Francis raised his eyebrows, caught off guard by her attitude and answer. He laughed suddenly before nervously running a hand through his hair, "Why?" Alice frowned.

"Why does it matter why? People get to know each other, right? So, I'm getting to know you.", she answered, crossing her arms. Francis glanced down at his lap, and hummed. She had a point.

_Interesting._

Francis raised his coffee to his lips and took a drink, _'Why does she want to know more about me?'_ He thought to himself as he returned the mug to the table. Why was she so different than the other women he's encountered? He lifted his eyes to her.

She was watching him, Francis shifting in his seat. "Why don't you tell her how you feel?", Alice asked again, in a persistent tone. Francis sighed, "Do I have to explain myself again-"

"_No._ You don't bloody know that!", she dropped her fisted hand on the table. Francis quirked a brow slightly, "Why are you so persistent?" Alice relaxed her shoulders and hand, her eyebrows furrowing. She didn't speak, as if she didn't know.

After a minute of silence, Francis exhaled. "Is there anything else you'd like to know?", he spoke in a softer tone, watching Alice warily. She sighed, switching her crossed legs, "Yeah." Francis waited for the question, but it didn't come. Alice furrowed her eyebrows.

Francis smiled in amusement. Why did she want to know more? As he did recall, he wasn't that interesting. Maybe he could learn more about _her_. If she'll tell him anything.

"Have you always been like this?"

Francis paused, his smiling dropping. That caught him off guard. "What do you mean?", he laughed lightly. She stared at him with a blank face, her eyes searching his face. She leaned back into her chair, her eyes dropped, her face unreadable. "Everyone changes over time. Something happens to them or someone close, and then they are never the same like they used to be.", she frowned. Francis remained silent, staring into her eyes, reading the loneliness and sadness in them.

Had something happened to her? Was she talking out of experience? He did know about her mother, but was there something else? Did _he_ change?

"Perhaps. But I would not know.", he said aloud, as if talking to himself. Alice didn't look satisfied with his answer, but accepted it, seeing as she couldn't get a better result. Francis noticed the sudden change in her eyes.

"What about you?", Francis watched her as she look away, her eyes fixed out the window. She remained silent, as expected. Francis continued to watch her with questions in his head, the silence lingering between them. "Of course I've changed.", she answered, her eyes returning to his. Francis smiled lightly, glad she hasn't always been a stuck-up Brit, not that he was complaining.

"That's good.", he murmured, dropping his eyes as he slid his forefinger up and down the handle of his mug. "Why is that?", Alice questioned with an odd tone. Francis raised his aqua eyes to hers, a smile threatening to spread over his slightly twitching lips.

"Well it's not good to stay the same, now is it?", he fought back the grin with victory. "I suppose not.", Alice frowned, clearly in disagreement with him. A paused passed before Francis spoke once more, "May I ask the questions now, s'il vous plaît?" Alice shifted in her seat uncomfortably, "Fine."

Francis smiled, but dropped it in thought, deciding which question he should ask first. The first one to appear in his head seemed decent enough.

"Have you ever been in love?", the light smile returned to his lips, certain it wasn't a really good subject to start with. But to his surprise, she didn't snap a hasty reply back.

"As in marriage and all that? No. All of it was senseless dating that never lasted more than a few months. I've never really met anyone that I would be commited to.", she shrugged as she explained. Francis remained silent, his smile slowly dropping after each word was spoken.

Alice averted her gaze to him, "Is that all you'd like to know?" Francis cleared his throat, "No." Alice made the hand in her lap into a fist, her other hand resting on the table. Francis eyed her hand on the table as he thought.

He reached across to slide his fingers around hers. She froze, staring as he tightened his fingers, the Frenchman lifting her hand. He leaned over and raised her hand to hold it in front of his lips. She didn't pull back, a small mask of shock on her features.

"Do you have a softer side?", he murmured, before gently pressing his lips to the back of her hand, his eyes closing. He felt her hand twitch before he lifted his head to fix his eyes on her. Blush was on her cheeks, her emerald eyes looking away, then back to Francis.

She yanked her hand away, "N-No, you dolt!" Her voice trembled as if touching was foreign to her. _Was it?_ Francis smiled, "I sincerely doubt that."

"And why is that?"

"You were the one who kissed me, non?"

Alice's cheeks flushed a deeper scarlet, before she mumbled, "It..was just on the cheek.." Francis smiled softly at the tint, feeling his heart melt even thought it accelerated. Alice stared at him, before standing and walking to the couple, leaving Francis without another word.

He watched as she talked to them in a hushed voice, nodding, and turning. She shot Francis a look before pacing to the kitchen, only to emerge a minute later with two filled cups in her hands. Her footsteps repeated as she returned to the couple, placing the beverages before them.

After taking their previous empty cups to the kitchen, she returned to her spot across from Francis, the chair creaking below her. Francis smiled as she crossed her arms and legs, sighing.

"Any more questions?", she asked, raising her gaze to his. A grin spread over his lips, "Oui. Have you ever been told that you're..different?" Alice frowned, "Yes, but in more judging phrases." Francis arched a brow. "Anyways", she waved her hand dismissively, "what do you mean?" Francis dropped his eyes, laughing lightly.

"I mean..you're different from most women I have met..", he admitted, raising his eyes to read her expression. Her eyes were fixed on him, her lips not in a frown nor a smile, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. Francis took that as a sign to continue.

"You..always surprise me. Always saying things that make me consider my own thoughts and feelings. And, your strong and focused personality. I have also seen your weak side, even if I unintentionally walked into it. I..have been thinking lately..that I don't want _this_ to change. That maybe everything I _expect_ in a woman has been tossed aside.", he was staring at her, watching her eyes.

She remained silent, her face blank. Francis felt his heart accelerate as she didn't respond, his eyes frozen in hers. Her hand clenched on the table.

"Is that all you see me as?", she murmured, her eyes dropping from his. Francis furrowed his eyebrows, "I-"

"A woman?", she interrupted him, snapping her eyes back to his. Francis didn't speak. "Y-You..don't get it. Do you? The _reason_ my father neglected me!", she raised her voice, the couple glancing over at them. Francis flickered his eyes to them before returning them to Alice.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you mean.", he spoke softly, trying to calm her down. "You don't even bloody care. All of this is for your benefit! All _you_ want to do is get in my pants, you prick!", she began again, her lips in a grimace. Francis frowned, "Alice, please calm down.", he whispered in a soothing tone, reaching across to place his hand on hers.

She paused at the touch lowering her eyes to their hands. Francis slid his fingers through hers, smiling lightly at the warmth. Alice raised her eyes to his.

"Non, I don't think that, amour.", he whispered, tightening his fingers around hers reassuringly. Alice dropped her eyes, her lips in a frown.

"I-I'm sorry.", she said, Francis feeling her hand tighten. Francis smiled lightly, "We are friends, oui? You don't have to think any more or any less of that. I do think it's possible to be friends without having any sexual or romantic relationship." Alice raised her eyes to his, before she cracked a tiny smile.

Neither of them pulled their hands away, Francis not minding it at all, a slight awkward but comforting atmosphere around them. Francis studied their hands, noticing her chipped, black nail polish and a few rings.

Alice felt his silver ring press into her finger, "Why do you wear that ring? Is it special?" Francis smile dropped slightly, "Oui. C'était un cadeau." Alice left it at that, not wanting to pry based on his expression once he answered.

* * *

><p>Eventually, Francis had to leave about an hour later, disappointed in having to leave her, due to work purposes. He had left with a swift peck to Alice's knuckle before hurrying out the door after smiling at the blush on her cheeks.<p>

But, now he was perched before a canvas with strokes of paint decorating the white. He only stared at the in-progress painting with furrowed eyebrows, the paint on the bristles of his paintbrush drying, his lips in a frustrated frown. He cursed in French loudly as he smacked his palette and paintbrush on the table beside him, the frown replaced with a grimace.

"Where's inspiration when you need it..", he mumbled as he stood from his seat and snatched his coat before striding out of his studio hastily, locking the door behind him.

* * *

><p>The floorboards creaked as he paced to his bedroom, sighing as he ran a hand through his blonde locks, before sliding his hand down his cheek to his beard. He scratched his chin as he pushed his door open lazily, dropping his hand from his beard.<p>

"Mon dieu..", he groaned as he flopped down onto his wide bed, burying his face into his pillow as he sighed once more. He laid there for a moment in silence before lifting his head to glance at the alarm clock on his night stand. 11:09 p.m.

Francis clenched his eyes as he pushed himself off the bed, snatching his pajamas from his dresser. He tossed them onto the comforter before lowering his fingers to his shirt, pulling it over his head, tossing it on the floor, too lazy to hang it up.

Once fully dressed in his sweatpants and sweater, he rubbed his eyes as he walked to the light switch, flipping it down before returning to his welcoming bed with silent relief. He pulled back the comforter before slipping in with an exhausted sigh, turning onto his side as he pulled it up to his shoulders.

After about five minutes of silence, he heard a low purr. He ignored it before it repeated a second later. It occurred to him it was vibrations. His phone. It vibrated on his dresser persistently, Francis deciding on ignoring it.

But, it ended with a last vibration, Francis snapping his eyes open. It was a text. Having curiosity urge him to retrieve his phone, he hastily shoved his covers off before standing from the bed. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he approached the dresser in the darkness, feeling the top with his hand until it touched the cold case of his phone.

He grabbed it before sliding back into his bed, pulling the comforter over his head. He snapped the phone open, squinting at the screen as the bright light flashed on. Once he opened the text message, he scanned the words.

_'Hey, it's Alice. You awake?'_

He paused before smiling lightly as he added her number to his contacts before he returned to the text, and began typing his reply with his thumbs.

_'Non, I am not awake, amour.'_

He sent it with a smirk on his lips, before receiving a text a minute later. _'Shut up, idiot. Are you busy?'_, it read. _'No need to be hasty. And, non, I was attempting to sleep but seeing as you want to talk, that is more important.'_, he sent back with an uncertain smile.

_'..Sorry.'_

_'No, it's alright. What would you like from me, douce?'_

_'I have another question to ask..and don't call me that.'_

_'What would you like to know?'_, Francis stared at the screen blankly. Why is she so interested in him? Was she like this towards other people? Francis pulled the comforter down from his head, inhaling a lung full of fresh air as he sat up, adjusting his pillow behind him before resting against the headboard. His phone vibrated in his hand, Francis flipping it open.

_'Are you with anyone?'_

_'As in dating? Non, not at the moment. Why?'_

_'Just curious.'_, she sent back. Francis furrowed his eyebrows. Why did she care? If they were talking face-to-face he could tell if she was 'just curious' by her body language, but he couldn't from a text message.

_'Anything else you'd like to know?'_

_'Yeah. What was your mother like?'_

Francis stared at the text with furrowed eyebrows, thinking about his mother, before he began to answer.

_'Well, she was strict. She always expected me to be perfect. As in dressing nice, getting excellent grades, receive praise from others, and to marry a beautiful, well-composed girl. But, being the imperfect person I am, I usually got in fights and did mischievous things with my two friends thus resulting with punishment from my mother.'_

_'It seems like my mother was the opposite. Must have been a hard childhood..not saying mine wasn't either.'_

_'Hmm..it didn't really bother me until highschool. But not everyone has perfect childhoods, oui?'_

_'Tell me more.'_

Francis laughed lightly, feeling his cheeks flush, not used to people being so interested in him besides clingy women.

_'Alright then, she taught me piano, dancing, and etiquette. She would sit by my side as I played piano, would watch my every movement as we danced, and scolded me whenever I did something incorrect. She also taught me cooking. When I was in highschool, I would sneak out, and my mother would wait until I got home at late hours, to scold me. Not that I cared at the time, I would continue to leave until she confiscated my sketchbook and phone.'_

_'You've had your sketchbook since back then?'_

_'Well, oui. But not the same one I showed you. I have a case of filled sketchbooks in my closet.'__'What was her name?'_

_'Lelà.'_

_'That is a unique name for a French woman.'_

_'My grandmother was only part French.'_

_'I see...do you find me odd for asking questions?'_

Francis remained silent, staring at the text. Did he? He found it comforting that someone cared, and to his amusement, he was happy each time she asked a question. But he just wanted to know why she asked them.

_'Not at all, questions are common when it comes to conversing. So, by all means, please continue.'_

_'If you wanted to, you could ask me questions. You don't want to just know my name, do you?'_

_'Ah, but if you are willing to answer them, I will ask.'_

_'That's what questions are for. Answering.'_

_'Alight then. What are you doing right now?'_

_'..Texting to you on my bed.'_

_'Why?'_

_'Because..I wanted to talk to you.'_

_'Are you sure about that?'_

_'Why wouldn't I bloody be?'_

_'Is that really the reason?'_'_What are you implying..?'_

Francis sighed as he glanced at the alarm clock, staring at the digits before he typed out, _'Nothing.'_, and hit send. A minute later, she had sent back, _'You need to sleep, don't you? I'm sorry.'_

_'Yes, I do. But, no need to apologize, I enjoyed talking to you.'_

_'Sleep well, okay?'_

_'Merci. Goodnight, mon douce.'_

After that, she didn't reply. Francis smiled lightly as he set his phone on the night stand, darkness returning. He rested his head on his pillow before turning onto his side, pulling the comforter to his shoulders, sliding his eyelids closed. He thought of Alice's smiles, her laughs, and her eyes before he slipped, quickly, into a comfortable sleep.

* * *

><p>The boisterous vibrations of his phone on the wood of his night stand snapped him out of his sleep. The Frenchman lazily slid his eyelids open, another persistent vibration urging him to drowsily sit up and lift it off the top. He flipped it open, and pressed it to his ear, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand.<p>

"'Allo..?", he mumbled. He heard a surprised, stuttered breath, as if they weren't expecting him to pick up. But that impression was wiped away by the tone of the voice on the other end.

"I need to see you. Meet me at the bridge. Now.", she demanded, Francis dropping his hand into his lap. "Alice..? Good-", he glanced at the clock, "afternoon." He heard her quiet breathing on the other end. "Well?", she spoke after a pause.

"Oui, oui.", Francis waved a hand absentmindedly, "But, I'm still in bed, it may take awhile for me to get ready." He heard a short huff on the other end. "It's not a sodding date, you dolt! Just take a quick shower, and throw on a shirt and pair of jeans!", she snapped, impatience in her tone.

"Are vous already there?", he scratched his beard, furrowing his eyebrows. She remained silent for a few seconds before mumbling, "I guess it's alright then, seeing as I'm still at home.." Francis grinned before sliding out of bed, his sweatpant's pant leg rolled up to his knee.

After a few steps towards his private bathroom, it slid down to his ankle. "So, what is this for?", he asked, pushing open his bathroom's door with his free hand. "You'll see.", she said before she hung up, Francis arching a brow. He snapped his phone shut before he turned around to toss it onto his bed.

After a quick shower, he got dressed in a white dress shirt with a black waistcoat and tie, a pair of black jeans to go with it. Once he ran a brush through his hair repeatedly, he brushed his teeth before grabbing his phone and slipping on a pair of dress shoes. A click sounded once Francis locked the door behind him, his footsteps echoing as he approached his Convertible.

* * *

><p>It was a bright, beautiful day, but the air was slightly moist, a few clouds littered across the sky. Francis clicked the car's door shut as he smiled at the sky and the small amount of Parisians walking on the sidewalks. His car was parked in the same spot it had been a few days before, Francis' mood brighter than it had been the last time he was here. He adjusted his waistcoat and tie before he began to cross the street, a smile on his lips.<p>

His footsteps tapped on the stone of the small bridge as an unwanted announcement of his arrival, Francis' arms dropped to his sides, his hands lightly clenched. As before, she was leaning over the edge, like a curious child, her head dipped down to stare at the river below.

"Bonjour, _mademoiselle_.", he spoke, smiling as she turned to look at him. Her face brightened, a small smirk on her lips. She pushed off the wall to face him. "Bonjour, yourself.", she said as she lowered her emerald irises before raising them, as if she was sizing him up. He chuckled before he glanced at her choice of an outfit.

A loose-fitted blouse, with flower patterns decorating the thin cotton, a small bow sitting at the collar. She had on a pair of white skinny jeans, a satchel slung across her chest, the bag resting on her hip. Francis returned his eyes to hers, smiling widely, pleased with her apparel.

Francis closed the distance between them with a step, before he kissed her on both cheeks lightly. She froze but relaxed as he pulled away, used to his quick kisses and embraces, a grin on Francis' lips.

"What was that for?", she attempted to look angry, but her lips were twitching with a warning of a smile, blush tinting her cheeks. "That is how friends greet. You know that, oui?", his smile brightened. "Since when were we friends?", she crossed her arms, staring at Francis. "But, mon amour, you said so yourself.", Francis' smile faltered slightly.

"Oh. Right.", she said heartlessly before she moved her hands to her satchel, snapping open the clasp, sliding her hand in. She pulled out a folded piece of paper. Francis smiled crookedly once she raised her eyes to his.

"There's an event going on for my dancing class. You can invite a partner. The location and time is in here.", she explained as she held out the piece of paper to him, her eyes determined. Francis reached out to take it from her, his eyebrow slightly arched. "You do know how to dance, right?", she asked, watching him as he flipped open the folded paper. Francis scanned the location before looking up at her, "Of course I do. I told you. And why are you inviting_ me_?"

"Wear a tuxedo.", she said, before she grabbed his hand without warning, squeezing it lightly with a smile before she turned and began to walk off the bridge. Francis watched with slight awe and amusement before he tucked the note away, turning and walking the bridge, leaving their meeting spot with a feeling of accomplishment.

* * *

><p>End of Part 2<p>

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<em>

Bonjour - Hello/Good morning/Good evening

Amour - Love

Oui - Yes

Non - No

Quoi - What

C'était un cadeau - It was a gift

Mon Dieu - My God

Douce - Sweet

Vous - You

Thank you all for reading/reviewing! eue


	3. Chapter 3

Belle or Beau?: Part 3

A/N: Please listen to _Piano Concerto No.21 in C Major _as you read the beginning..

Pairing: FrUK

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><p>A small smile spread over Francis' lips as he adjusted the bow-tie to his tuxedo in front of the mirror in his bedroom, pleased with his appearance. His hair was resting on his shoulders, his bangs brushed aside. He had trimmed his beard, and cut the ends of his hair.<p>

About a half an hour from now, he would meet Alice at the auditorium, where the event was taking place. A week ago, Alice had given him an 'invitation' to the event, the date stating August 20th. During the week before the event, as usual, he spent a few hours at the café everyday.

He had also managed to learn that Alice's birthday is on the twenty-third of April, which meant her astrological sign was Taurus. He also learned that she is decent at cooking, knows how to clean, plays violin, and that she used to be a model.

At first, he was shocked to learn that she was a model, but then realized he should have known, due to the fact that her body is almost too perfect, from what he can see.

He also learned she hates those sappy _Disney_ movies that always end with a happy ending. 'The world isn't full of just happiness.', is what she had said. He hasn't seen many_ Disney_ movies himself, so he wouldn't know, but he wasn't really fond of 'sappy' as well.

Francis pushed those thoughts away and adjusted his sleeves before turning to grab his keys, his coat, and his phone. After checking his appearance with one last glance, he left his apartment, locking it behind him.

Once he was in his Convertible, he slid his keys into the ignition, twisting it, the engine purring to life, before he backed up. He drove out of the parking lot with a turn, pulling out the paper with the location scribbled on it with Alice's slightly messy handwriting. He scanned the name of the street and where it was taking place, before he returned his eyes to the road.

As he drove in the direction towards the auditorium, he wondered what dress she would wear. What would it look like? He imagined her in a long dress that fit her figure perfectly, melting into each curve and bump, flowing down her long, feminine legs. At the thought, he smiled.

But, what would happen? Would they just dance and then he would leave her? Leave her..like always?

Is that what she wanted?

* * *

><p>Francis pulled into the parking lot to the auditorium, sliding in between two expensive-looking cars. He switched off the car before pushing open the door, shutting it behind him as he glanced around the parking lot. The majority of the vehicles were unique. Some rare, even. So the students were wealthy? Is Alice? At least he fit.<p>

After locking his door, he began to pace towards the entrance, gazing up at it's exterior. It was very tall, and wide, with a few windows. He approached the glass double doors, curling his fingers around the metal handle before pulling it open, staring into the inside, warmth welcoming him. He studied what it presented, the door sliding shut behind him.

Another set of double doors were across the room, facing him, held wide open. He could see a lot of people, wearing expensive formal dresses and tuxedos, past the doors, the soft hum of voices and the tapping of footsteps repeating.

A table was beside the doors, a vase of lilies on top as well as a phone and phone book. A man was sitting on the other side of the doors on a Victorian chair, reading a book. He glanced up at Francis, Francis blinking before he walked to the doors, nodding at the man before entering the large, crowded room.

A soft smell of cuisine enveloped him as well as perfume and cologne. The sound of pianos and violins were mixing together to make some sort of classical music, that Francis smiled at. He began to pace to the right, avoided the crowd of people, towards the tables of rich cuisine.

The room was very large, wide, and spacious. Past the group of people, there was a section for dancing. Francis watched the pairs of Parisians dance, their hands linked, soft smiles on the women, a few on the men. And beside the dancers, was a platform with a pianist and their companion, a few violinists beside them, their eyes closed. The pianist's eyes were dropped to her hands, watching her fingers dance elegantly across the piano's keys, as if her fingers were having a party of their own.

Francis felt uneasy, as if he didn't belong, afraid of the judging of the wealthy group. But, when he averted his gaze to the crowd, all of them were either talking with a partner, or looking for one. He exhaled.

The soft song of the violins and piano ended. For a few seconds, they were silent, before the sound started again. It was a different tune, more melodic. The piece sounded similar to _Piano Concerto No.21 in C Major_ by Mozart. The feeling of discomfort washed away from the beautiful sound, Francis' eyes returning to the platform, his breath taken away.

Suddenly, he felt a small touch on his left shoulder, Francis turning. Johanna smiled brightly as his eyes met hers, Francis slightly shocked to see her here. "Johanna?", he spoke, the girl giggling. "Bonjour, Francis! Did Alice invite you?", she replied, her violet eyes averting from him before returning. "Oui..not to be rude, but how come you are here?", Francis furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh, well, I was invited by my other friend that goes here, Michael. I don't take lessons here, if that's what you're asking.", she answered, smiling lightly.

Francis stared at her long, black hair that was now in a French bun, a few locks of hair falling, as bangs, on both sides of her forehead. She had on mascara, as well as light rose lipstick, a diamond necklace wrapped loosely around her neck. Her dress was long, to above her ankles, the shade of it a light blue. It was sleeveless, straps holding it up. She also had on long, white gloves, that reached the inside of her elbow.

"Right, well, it was nice to see you once more, Johanna.", he lied, forcing a light smile. "Of course, but it won't be the last, hopefully.", she smiled before brushing a lock of hair behind her ear that wasn't there, out of habit.

"You should go find Alice then..", she began before smiling and waving, turning to walk away, her heels clicking. Francis watched her leave before averting his eyes to the group of people.

He began to pace to the group, walking past a woman with shoulder-length red hair, into the sea of people. It wasn't elbow-to-elbow crowded, having space without having to push past people. He looked around at the different women, watching for short, sand-colored hair. He noticed a girl with short hair, blonde, but she was shorter than him.

He paused his steps, spotting a girl that was talking to a middle-aged woman. She was slightly, very slightly, taller than him, due to her high-heels, and had a soft-looking, revealed, back, with slender shoulder blades and pale skin. Francis approached her, his footsteps drowned out by the hum of conversation. Once he stepped up behind her, he lifted his hand to tap her lightly on the shoulder.

"Excuse moi, but do I know you?", he joked sarcastically, a smile growing on his lips. The girl broke away from her speaking, and turned around, her bottle-green eyes meeting his.

"Oh! Hey, welcome!", Alice smiled widely, her teeth showing, her eyes brightening. She touched him on the arm, before quickly glancing back at the middle-aged woman, her hand resting on Francis' forearm.

"Right, if you'll excuse me. We can speak later, perhaps?", she offered, the middle-aged woman glancing at Francis before back to Alice, and smiled, as if she understood. "Of course.", she said in a stern, but soft voice before turning and leaving them.

Alice returned her gaze to him, a smile on her lips, before she dropped her hand from his arm. Francis returned the smile before he leaned over to press his lips to a single cheek, pulling back to smile once more at her blush.

"It's nice seeing you again.", Alice admitted, smiling brighter. "I agree.", Francis grinned crookedly. They stood there for a few seconds in silence, Francis glancing down at her dress.

It was dropping to above her calf, but below her knee. The sleeves reached down to her wrist, the collar a little lower than her shoulder, the middle of it dipping to the low of her back. The bicep of her sleeves were loose-fitted, baggy even, but below her elbow was tight on her forearm. The skirt itself, was wide, layered, forming the shape of a rose. A ribbon was tied around her neck, a bow forming on the back. A rose barrette in her hair, her lips colored a bright red. For once, she had no earrings in her ears. Even her red high-heels had small roses on them.

"You look..beautiful.", he breathed, returning his eyes to hers. Alice smiled lightly, "I could say the same thing, but I don't want to be cheesy." Francis laughed at that, before he slid his hand over hers, Alice's smiling growing.

"Shall we dance?", Francis motioned towards the dance floor.

"Sure."

Francis walked past her, still holding her hand in his, towards the other dancing pairs. He heard the click of her heels, and felt the tighten of her hand as he stopped a few feet away from another couple, turning to face her. Alice stood before him, guiding his hand that was holding hers to her hip, as she raised her free hand to his shoulder.

"So..this isn't Waltz?", Francis murmured, watching her movements. She lifted her gaze to him with a small smile, "I never said we were Waltzing." She slid her hand through his, their arms lazily outstretched, their hands holding each other.

Francis watched her fluid movements with a quickening heartbeat, Francis tightening his hand on hers. He slid his hand that was on her hip to the small of her back, pulling her closer. She laughed lightly, "You bloody moron..", she mumbled, her expression slightly pleased.

They began to mimic the dancing couple beside them, Alice's eyes focused, a concentrated frown on her lips. Francis grinned, laughing on the inside at her concentration.

"Relax, relax.", he purred, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek swiftly. She blushed, squeezing his shoulder tightly, "You need to learn to knock it off." Francis' grin widened, "Oui, oui." She smiled as they followed each other's footsteps, Francis keeping his eyes fixed on her.

His breath was taken away by her soft-looking emerald eyes, her red lips, and the gentle curve of her shoulders and the feeling of her hand. Alice gazed into his aqua orbs, the small smile on her lips faltering to awe. They were enveloped in each other's eyes, their bodies slowly inching closer without them noticing.

Alice stared at him with a small, hidden glint in her eyes, Francis feeling himself being taken over by a unspoken spell. He noticed a foreign look in her irises, one that spoke of something _new_, something that was growing between both of them. Whether it was friendship or not, Francis didn't care, he only smiled lightly, Alice returning it weakly.

They continued to move together softly, smiles dancing in their eyes. Francis continued to watch her with silent awe, his heart beating against his chest with a quick tempo, the Frenchman wondering if she could feel it or hear it. She only smiled, as if she could, before she closed her eyes. Francis silently watched as she rested her head on his chest, her ear above his heart.

He could feel his heart speed up, slightly embarrassed, wondering if she could hear the change in the beat. "I can hear you..you like this, don't you?", she murmured, her feet slowing so now they were just moving side to side gently.

"I can't deny that I am enjoying this greatly..", he whispered in response, feeling Alice tighten her hand on his. "I'm glad.", she spoke, Francis almost feeling her smile.

They danced in silence for awhile longer, before Alice lifted her head and slid her hand away from his, Francis' lips smiling lightly. "Let's get a drink.", she offered, before she pulled away reluctantly, Francis sliding his hand from her back.

"Oui.", Francis murmured in a disappointed tone, feeling himself long for her embrace once more. "Don't worry, we'll dance again.", she laughed, noticing the drop in his mood. Francis nodded with a short smile. She grabbed his hand, and pulled him lightly to the cuisine.

Their feet tapped on the floor as they walked, hands linked, to the tables, Alice's lips in a small smile. Francis couldn't help but feel _happy_, seeing as what he wanted for the past few weeks was becoming reality. A smile spread over his lips. Alice reached the table that had a group of half-full glasses, Alice pulling her hand from Francis' to lift one to him.

He slid his fingers over hers as he took it, Alice's cheeks flushing lightly before she lifted her own from the table. She turned back to him with a smile. Francis had moved closer to her, now standing in front of her with his wine in his hand. Alice paused as Francis leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"I would like to comment on how much I am enjoying this evening so far, amour. I am glad you invited me.", he murmured, lowering his eyes down his neck and back. He wanted to kiss her neck, but he knew it would get a negative response. He pulled back to see Alice smile widely, her eyes fixed on his. He felt her grab his hand gently, her fingers brushing over his skin repeatedly.

"I know somewhere we can go to drink this without being disturbed.", she said before she began to walk towards the back, pulling him along by the hand. He followed almost too eagerly, surprised she wanted to be alone with him.

She pushed past a pair of back doors, Francis behind her, to a back garden. It had a canopy of vines and flowers, a small stone pathway leading to a fountain with glistening, flowing water creating waterfalls. There was a small table with two seats on the far left, a vase with lilies sitting on top. A row of bushes were on both sides of the stone platform. Francis silently stared at the view, taken back by the beauty of it.

"I'm curious..but why is this in the back?", he asked in a hushed voice, dropping his eyes to Alice. She grinned, "I found it. Awhile ago. So I wouldn't know." Before Francis could ask, she dropped his hand and paced slowly down the stone pathway, her heels clicking.

She gazed up at the night sky, her mouth agape in awe, her eyes glistening, her breath coming out in fog. Francis watched as she dropped her eyes before she approached the fountain, past the canopy of vines. She leaned over to run her hand through the flowing water, her eyes distant as she smiled lightly, Francis hearing and feeling his heart accelerate, his breath coming out in a short rush.

He quietly walked past the canopy, to her, Alice keeping her eyes on the small waterfalls of water. He gently slid his hand through hers, Alice lifting her gaze to him. She watched him as he smiled lightly at her, before he guided her to the small table with the vase of lilies.

He held her hand as she sat down on one of the seats, her wine in her other hand, her eyes dropping from his. She crossed her legs as he let go of her hand, Francis sitting in the opposite seat. He smiled, Alice lifting her eyes to him once more, her eyes fixed on his.

"Nice night, isn't it?", he began, averting his view to the dark sky. Alice snorted as she took a small drink from her wine, "Don't." Francis laughed, "Fine, fine."

They sat in silence for a little bit, a relaxing atmosphere around them.

"What are you thinking about?", she asked, her eyes returning to him, her fingers resting on her glass. Francis smiled, returning his gaze to her. He didn't see any reason to lie.

"You.", he answered with a blink, grinning as blush appeared on her cheeks. "I wasn't expecting that as your answer.", she murmured before raising her glass to her lips.

"Well you should be.", he grinned widely, entertained by her personality. She set her glass down, her eyes piercing, "And why is that?"

"Why not? We are constantly together, and you seem so interested in me, and I am interested in vous. You always invade my thoughts, is that so wrong?", he smiled softly, flickering his eyes to her, watching for her expression.

She didn't frown or smile, her eyes bright. "I don't see why it would be a problem.", she stated blankly, smiling lightly at him. Francis took a drink from his wine, the corners of his lips curved upwards.

Alice slid her hands away from her wine, folding them on the table. Francis watched from the corner of his eye as he took another small drink from his glass, Alice running her fingers over each other.

"You know..it's the same for me.."

"Hmm?", Francis arched a brow, lowering his glass to the table before he turned to face her. She flickered her eyes to him before dropping them to her hands again. "I've been thinking about..you lately. I don't know. Even before I went to sleep the other night.", she mumbled, her eyes glinting, Francis furrowing his eyebrows.

She blushed, "I mean.._before_ I went to sleep..nevermind.", she stumbled over her words in embarrassment. Francis raised his eyebrows. What was she implying? He opened his mouth to ask but then he closed it. He lowered his eyebrows and grinned.

"_I see._", he purred, his heart thudding against his chest, his eyes watching Alice. She blushed deeper, her fingers brushing each other quicker, "N-Nevermind, pretend I didn't say that."

"Non, I understand, don't worry.", he lifted his wine to his lips as he looked at her with a side-ways glance, a smirk on his lips as he took another drink. Alice felt her ears burn before she raised her glass to her lips hastily.

Francis chuckled, feeling himself grin like an idiot. He watched as she set her glass down, a small amount of wine remaining. She shyly lifted her eyes to him.

After they had enough of their wine, they returned to the auditorium, Francis returning the glasses to the table before walking back to Alice.

"Do you want to dance once more?", he asked with a smile on his lips, holding a hand out to her. She returned the smile before sliding her hand into his, "Sure." They returned to the dance floor in front of the platform where the pianist and violinists were playing, resuming their position from last time.

Francis ran his hand past her hip to her back once more, sliding his finger up slightly to touch the skin to her back where it was revealed, Alice grinning.

After a few minutes of smiling and silent dancing, Alice moved closer to him, tightening her hand on his. Francis kept his gaze on her as she slid her hand down from his shoulder, to rest it on his chest, Alice smiling very lightly, a slight shade of pink on her cheeks. Francis watched her with awe, his eyes fixed on hers, adore hidden in the blue. It seemed like she could read it, a smile growing over her lips.

Her smile dropped slightly, her eyes fixed on his.

"I..don't think I ever got your name.", she said, her eyes curious, her lips sprouting a tender smile. Francis grinned, "No, I don't think you have." Alice seemed to inch closer, "What is it?", she asked curiously, her lips in a curved smile.

"Francis Bonnefoy."

"Francis..I like that..", she breathed, her eyes sliding half-closed, her smile dropping. Francis paused, his breath halting, his heart accelerating. Their feet went still, neither of them speaking. Alice slid her hand away from his, the hand positioned on his chest moving to his cheek, her hands holding his face.

She breathed a quiet plead before she closed her eyes and pressed her lips gently to his.

Francis hearing his heart hammer, a quiet ring echoing in his ears, felt his hands freeze. He only felt her lips move passionately against his, attempting to get a response. He remained still only a moment later before he slid his hands over her back, lightly pressing back with quiet eagerness, his eyes clenching shut.

They only kissed for a few seconds longer before Alice reluctantly pulled away with an intake of breath, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. Francis remained silent as he slid his hands down her back to rest on her hips, his eyes fixed on nothing but hers. She stared back into his, uncertainty masking her face.

"I'm not drunk, am I?"

"I doubt one glass of wine would do it."

"I think I'm falling for you.", she breathed, sliding her hands down his cheeks to rest on his shoulders, her eyes lost hopelessly in his.

"I fell for you the day I met you.", Francis replied with a small smile, glad and relieved he could say that. Alice's lips broke into a bright smile, her cheeks pink with blush, her smile representing relief.

Francis kissed her on the nose before Alice pecked him on the lips teasingly, her hands wrapping around his neck.

"Let's not make a scene, oui?", Francis whispered before quickly returning the peck, pulling back to smile. Alice nodded.

"Shall we go to my house, then?", she offered, her eyes not leaving his. Francis felt his heart flutter, but his voice was no where to be found. He only nodded sharply before she slid her arms from around his neck, her hand lingering on his. Before Francis could actually _process_ what happened, seeing as what he's wanted for the past few weeks became reality, Alice had guided him out of the auditorium, Francis noticing a big smile on Johanna's lips as they passed her.

* * *

><p>Francis didn't know what to expect as he followed Alice's directions that led to her house. As Francis drove in the direction, their hands were linked between the seats, silence between them. Was she wealthy like he had wondered earlier? Did she live by herself?<p>

"Turn here.", she instructed, pointing towards a path that turned off the road. Francis silently listened as he pulled his hand away from her's to turn sharply onto the dirt pathway, his eyes inquisitive, the Frenchman glancing around at the nature that surrounded them. He returned his hand to hers as he grew more curious.

After a few seconds of driving past plants and trees, they broke past the green to an open space, Francis slowing. He could make out a wide cottage-looking house, the dirt path forming into a drive way. Francis slowed to a stop in front of the gate, the Frenchman glancing at Alice with a smile before sliding his hand from hers, and shutting off his Convertible.

Alice was the first to step out of the vehicle, the Brit making sure her dress wouldn't be caught on the door before she shut it, her footsteps tapping on the hard dirt as she made her way to the gate. Francis followed suit, opening his door and stepping onto the dirt before shutting it behind him with a quiet click.

He approached Alice, who was unlocking the metal gate, as he gazed past it to the groups of bright flowers that lined the garden in front of the exterior, a few pots of flowers hanging from the canopy of the house. Basically, it explained that Alice was a gardener. Funny, she never mentioned being friendly with plants.

There was a small grass area between all the flowers, Francis smiling lightly at it. He averted his eyes to the exterior of her house. It had two paneled windows spaced out on both sides of the front door, another three on the second floor.

Alice pushed open the metal gate, holding it open for Francis to walk past her before she locked it behind them. Francis arched a brow as she glanced at him, Alice blushing slightly.

She walked past him, up the dirt path, to the first step in front of the door. She stepped up before she unlocked the front door, Francis pacing up behind her, the door creaking as she silently pushed it open. Once she walked in, Francis cautiously entered behind her, clicking the door shut behind them.

Francis didn't really know what to expect the inside of her house to look like. But he didn't know it was going to seem.._welcoming_. He smiled widely at how it smelled like wood and plants but also smelled like..Alice. It was also very warm and cozy. They were in a hallway with doors on both walls that stretched down. Beside the front door was a closet that was most likely meant for coats and shoes and such necessities.

The house settled below them as Alice approached the closet silently, lifting her foot to slip off her heel. Once she pulled off her other high-heel, she opened the closet and set them on the floor inside, Francis smiling lightly as she turned to him. Her face was flushed very slightly, as if she was nervous, her eyes darting away from Francis' as if she was embarrassed. Francis only grabbed her hand lightly, reassuringly, before he dropped his hand and took off his dress shoes.

It seemed odd doing this, as if it was routine. Francis laughed in his head as he placed them in the closet before shutting the door to it, turning to Alice. She was waiting for Francis with a shy, nervous smile on her lips. She held a hand out for him, "Should I give a tour?" Francis grinned before he intertwined his fingers with her's, "Oui, that would be wonderful."

* * *

><p>Alice showed him the bathroom that was the first door to their right, a toilet and sink with a case of newspapers and magazines. For guests, from what Francis guessed. And then the guest room, a bed with a soft-colored comforter, a dresser, a desk, and a bookshelf. Then she showed him the kitchen and living room which were at the end of the hallway, the kitchen having sleek counters, a dark, wooden dining table with an open book on the top, and the usual stove, fridge, and dishwasher. Her living room had a two couches, a fireplace, another bookshelf, and a coffee table between the couches.<p>

On the second floor, it was just a study, her bedroom, and her private bathroom. The study had two desks, one with a laptop, the other with stacks of books. A bookshelf was in the corner, an armchair beside it with a small table, a phone sitting on it.

Francis had been watching Alice throughout the 'tour', her face masked with concentration or nervousness. He was slightly shocked that she had such a nice looking house even though she was by herself, and being only a waitress. He assumed she was wealthy, but not that she mentioned it.

When she led him to her bedroom, she looked slightly comfortable but yet weary. Francis wanted to do something to make her more relaxed but seeing as he wasn't in a position to, he just let it be.

Once she opened the door to her bedroom, she reached up to twist the light switch, the dimming light turning on. It cast a gentle glow to the room, Alice sighing contently. She quietly walked in, Francis following. He smiled at the interior, glancing around the room.

A canopy bed was pushed against the center of the right wall, a dresser and night stand on both sides. The bed had a light tan comforter with matching pillows, the thin canopy draping softly over the bed, covering most of the view. There was also two other doors, which Alice explained to be a walk-in closet and a private bathroom. Francis walked over to her bed and touched the fabric of the comforter with his fingers, the feeling of it smooth and soft. He stared at the light color of tan, before he looked back at Alice, her back to him.

She was facing the mirror. Francis watched silently as she raised her hands to untie the ribbon around her neck and slide it off slowly, placing it on the table beside her before she reached up to unclip her barrette and place it beside the ribbon. Francis felt his breath catch in his throat once Alice exhaled and turned to him.

Francis wasn't so sure what to do, even though he should know what to do in this situation, seeing as most women got right to it. But was he even sure what they were going to _do_ in the first place? He froze when Alice walked to him and curled her fingers over his, "Why are you so tense?" Francis blinked before he exhaled and attempted to smile.

"Désolé..", he murmured, squeezing her hand lightly.

She furrowed her eyebrows before she sighed and pulled him to the side of the bed, "Come here." She turned and pushed him down to sit on the bed before she sat beside him.

But, to Francis' confusion, her back was to him. "Quoi..", he began, but he paused, knowing what she meant. He smiled before he raised his hands to run them over the curve of her revealed shoulders, Alice shuddering slightly at the new warmth added to her skin.

Francis smiled softly at her tremble, before he began to lightly massage her shoulders, sliding his hands down her biceps occasionally. He felt his heart flutter as he ran his hands gently over her smooth back, hearing Alice suck in a breath as he pressed in a stronger massage against her tense muscles.

She exhaled in attempt to relax, Francis smiling. He ran his hand down the center of her back, feeling each bump of her spine. He studied her skin; each flaw, curve, bump, and roll of her muscle. He pressed his fingertips strongly on her shoulder blades, as if he was playing a piano. She sighed contently as he switched to his thumbs, rubbing them down on her shoulder blades.

He leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her shoulder, Alice jumping slightly. Francis ran his hands down her shoulders, past her biceps, sliding her dress' sleeves lower. But she reached up to grab one of his hands, "Please don't."

Francis paused before he moved his hands to her back once more, murmuring an apology before he began to massage her back again, sliding his hands down her spine, memorizing it all. He leaned over and pressed his lips to each bump of her spine, Alice's muscles tensing.

He moved his lips to the back of her neck, pressing a kiss before biting softly, Alice making a noise in the back of her throat. Francis smiled before he pulled away, Alice turning to face him.

"T-That felt..nice..", she mumbled, dropping her eyes, blush on her cheeks.

Francis smiled lightly. Alice averted her eyes before returning them to Francis', her lips in a small purse. She raised her hands and placed them on Francis' shoulders before she pushed him down as she leaned over him, the canopy shielding them from the rest of the room. Francis' eyes widened slightly at her advance, before he smiled.

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheeks, and then his nose. She kissed him on the forehead, and then his jaw before working down his neck, pressing gentle kisses.

Francis closed his eyes to focus on the feel of her lips, a shudder going through him once he felt her bite gently on the skin of his neck, a soft laugh slipping from him, which resulted in him feeling a rougher bite. A feeling or arousal shot through him, Francis moaning quietly.

He felt her lips pause, and could see her ears burn red. He ran his hand up her back, Alice shivering. "Stop making me bloody blush, you moron.", she mumbled into his skin before she kissed the spot where she bit, Francis smiling.

"You're the one turning me on..", he purred before he wrapped his arms around Alice's back and turned them over, a surprised shout coming from her. "Frog..", she mumbled, her cheeks lightly tinted, her eyes averting from his. Francis only smiled down at her before he lowered his lips to her cheek and pressed a quick kiss, Alice returning her eyes to him as she grew silent. He kissed her jaw repeatedly as he made his way to her ear.

"You're a man.._aren't you_?", he whispered into her ear. Alice remained silent. Francis pulled back to look her in the eyes, trying to read the look in her irises.

She exhaled, closing her eyes, before she opened them to stare at Francis, "Yeah..how did you figure out?"

"I've been assuming you were for awhile."

"And you aren't bothered by it?"

"Why would I be?", Francis murmured with a smile. "I-I don't know..I would be mad or..shocked..that my partner..wasn't the gender I was expecting them to be.", Alice's voice wavered nervously, his eyes darting from Francis.

Francis reached up to slide his hand over his cheek, Alice returning his eyes to Francis'.

"All I want to know is your_ real_ name. The rest we can sort out later.", he murmured, his eyes fixed on Alice's, the Frenchman noticing the short glisten in his eyes.

"A..Arthur.", he began, "Arthur Kirkland." Francis smiled brightly, "Arthur..I like that.", he teased.

Arthur look relieved, his lips slightly smiling. Francis smiled softly before he leaned down and gently kissed his cheek, his long locks falling down to brush against Arthur's skin.

"Won't that get in the way?", Arthur asked, Francis lifting his head to look at him. Arthur reached up and tugged on his tuxedo. "It's getting wrinkly.", he added, looking down at the fabric.

"Then why don't you take it off?", Francis replied with a smirk, Arthur blushing lightly. "Why do I have to take off your bloody clothes? I'm not your mother.", he shot back, Francis arching a brow. "Would you rather have me undress you?", he smiled widely down at Arthur, the Brit frowning with a grimace.

"Fine.", Arthur mumbled before he pushed Francis off him, the Frenchman sitting back, Arthur sitting up as well. He reached up to hook his fingers around Francis' tuxedo's jacket, his face flushing before he slowly slid it off his shoulders, Francis looking amused.

Arthur tossed his jacket onto the ground, Francis grinning, not caring. Arthur reached up, his fingers slightly trembling, to untie his bow-tie and carefully slide it off his neck before he began to work on the buttons of his undershirt with uneasy fingers.

Once Francis had his shirt off, Arthur ran his hand over his chest, Francis grinning in amusement at how Arthur kept his eyes fixed on his skin. The Brit's face was flushed, his fingers trembling as he ran them down his chest, Francis' hairs brushing against them. Francis' smile dropped at the feeling of his hand over his skin, his eyes fixed weakly on Arthur's face.

Arthur ran his hand lower, to his stomach, and squeezed lightly. "Barely any fat..", he commented with a quirked eyebrow before he slid his hand back up his chest, obviously avoiding what was below. Francis laughed lightly, Arthur blushing, knowing what he was laughing at.

The bed creaked as Francis laid Arthur back down, the Brit growing annoyed. "I'm not done yet.", he complained, trying to move his hands up his shoulders. "I'm not either.", Francis replied before he leaned down and kissed his neck repeatedly, Arthur sighing before he let him continue.

The Frenchman bit at the skin lightly, Arthur twitching. Francis ran his tongue over the flushed skin, a slight moan slipping from Arthur.

He kissed and sucked on the skin until a bruise-like mark appeared, Arthur tsking, a successful grin spreading over Francis' lips.

Arthur remained silent, Francis humming with a smile before he moved to his ear and bit loosely on the earlobe, Arthur moaning very slightly.

He kissed below the earlobe, and then on his jaw once more before he pulled back to study Arthur. He was panting slightly, despite it was only kissing. "Please sit up, amour.", Francis asked him lightly, the Brit sitting up with a small grunt.

"Turn around.", he instructed, Arthur sighing before turning. Francis ran his hands over his back, before sliding them up to his shoulders. He ran his hands down his biceps, and hooked his fingers around the loose collar of his dress.

He began to slide it down slowly, kissing the new revealed skin. Arthur's breath increased as he slid the torso of his dress to his waist, Francis smiling lightly. Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, he left the dress where it was, now only Arthur's torso exposed.

Arthur turned back to him with blush on his cheeks, Francis kissing him on the forehead before he laid him down on the pillows. Francis smiled before he leaned over him and pressed his lips to his nose and then his cheek and his forehead.

It seemed like he was avoiding only his lips, only kissing every spot on his face, even his eyelids. Francis pulled back after another gentle kiss to Arthur's forehead, before he moved to his collarbone. He kissed the skin and flicked his tongue against it before he gently bit the bone at first, Arthur cringing slightly. Francis left a bruised mark there, as well on the other side, and another right below it, and one on his neck. Arthur panted as Francis began to move downwards, kissing as he went.

He reached Arthur's nipples, the Frenchman sliding his hands up Arthur's torso before he pressed a thumb over one, noticing him arch his back slightly. "P-Please..be gentle..", he heard him breath, Francis feeling him tighten his hands on his shoulders.

Francis hummed in response before he moved his mouth to his other hard nipple, kissing it gently as he rubbed his thumb on the other one. Arthur moaned, sliding one of his hands to tangle in Francis' hair. Was he sensitive here? He sucked on one, Arthur twitching below him.

The Frenchman closed his eyes before he sucked roughly, the Brit moaning lowly, Francis massaging his other nipple underneath his thumb. Francis rolled his tongue over it, pinching his other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Arthur twitched below him before exhaling, "Ah..please..no pinching." Francis kept that in mind for later before he began to massage it, prodding his other nipple with his tongue.

"Ah! N-No more..", Arthur breathed, Francis pulling away to look at his face. Arthur was panting, his face flushed, his eyes half-lidded. Francis felt blood rush south at the view, the Frenchman leaning over to kiss him on the forehead and neck once more.

Arthur wrapped his arms around his neck before pressing his lips to Francis', his eyes clenched shut. Francis was taken for surprise for a moment, Arthur taking the opportunity to roll them over, so he was on top. Francis accepted the switch as he moved his lips against Arthur's eagerly, his eyes sliding shut, Arthur pulling back for a second to take in a breath.

Before Francis could inhale Arthur had eagerly returned his lips to Francis', his arms swiftly unwrapping from around his neck as their lips argued, his hands traveling down.

He massaged his hand against the fabric over Francis' arousal seductively, Francis moaning lowly in his throat. Arthur slid his hand away, up Francis' chest, and tangled it in his hair.

Francis pulled away for breath, Arthur looking down at him hungrily. "My, my..", Francis purred with a smirk, Arthur panting. The Brit didn't say anything, only roughly returned his lips to Francis'.

The Frenchman pressed back as he ran his hands down Arthur's torso, to his waist, and slid his dress off, the red gown falling onto the floor.

Arthur took that as a sign to slide Francis' pants down slightly. Francis pulled away from his lips with a pant before he grabbed hold of Arthur's hands.

"No need to rush things.", he said between breaths, his eyes fixed on Arthur's. Arthur blushed deeply, his eyes mesmerized by Francis'. He sat up, his pants slowing.

"I-I'm sorry, I just got caught in the moment..", he said, his face flushing a deeper pink. Francis laughed lightly, "No need to apologize, I just wanted to make sure you were okay with this in the first place." Arthur paused at that, his eyes frozen on Francis'.

"Well that's kind of late seeing as I'm almost completely naked.", he said blankly.

"But, it's not _too_ late, is it?"

Arthur remained silent, knowing he was right.

Francis sat up with Arthur still straddling his waist, the Frenchman wrapping his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Arthur paused before he closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder, his arms trapped against Francis' chest.

"Let's change positions, first of all.", Francis murmured into his ear before he turned over with Arthur still in his arms, before he loosened his arms around him. Arthur laid down against the pillows once more, his chest rising and falling slightly.

Francis moved over him with a soft smile, his eyes roaming over Arthur's body. He studied everything about his figure in awe, his eyes finally meeting Arthur's. Their eyes were fixed together, enveloped in each other's beauty. Francis could still read the sadness in his eyes, but there was something new as well, something that was bright.

He smiled before laughing lightly, breaking his gaze from him. Arthur remained silent as Francis returned his eyes to his.

"I should call you _beau_ now, shouldn't I?", Francis grinned. Arthur smiled lightly, "I suppose so."

"Well, you are _beau_, mon amour."

"I could say the same thing, but that would be cheesy. But right now, I don't really give a damn.", Arthur smirked as he wrapped his arms around his neck, his eyes locked with Francis'. "I think you are beautiful, Francis.", he whispered before he pulled Francis down to connect their lips.

Francis pressed back strongly, closing his eyes. Their lips moved together passionately, Arthur humming in his throat as their lips overlapped. Francis pulled back to inhale, opening his eyes to look at Arthur. "I just want to be positive..just so you won't regret anything..but are you sure about this?", he asked as he watched Arthur. The Brit smiled lightly, but it lowered, "I'm sure."

Francis smiled lightly, "I will be gentle, I promise."

"You better be."

Francis chuckled before he kissed him on the lips lightly with a peck, "You wouldn't happen to have lube, would you?"

"I have some in the night stand's drawer."

"Oh really? Are you used to this kind of attention?"

"What are you bloody implying? I just happen to have lube in my damn night stand, I never really had the chance to throw it out."

Francis laughed and kissed him on the lips with another peck, pulling back to gaze in his eyes, before he connected their lips this time, more strongly.

Arthur lifted his hands to hold Francis' face as he pressed back, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Their lips mashed together, a low hum in Arthur's throat. He pulled back to take in a breath before he connected their lips once more, sliding his arms around Francis' neck. Arthur prodded his tongue against Francis' lips, Francis pausing before he opened his mouth, their tongues meeting for the first time. A short shudder ran through Arthur as their tongues slid over each other, a low moan humming in the Brit's throat.

The bed creaked once Arthur rolled them over, so he was on top, Francis making a throaty laugh. Their tongues wrestled for a moment longer before he pulled back to breathe, a smile growing on his lips.

The Brit looked down at Francis with a content smile on his lips. He inhaled once more before he returned his lips to Francis', his tongue sliding past their lips. Their tongues rolled together as Arthur tangled his hands in Francis' hair, Francis placing his hands on Arthur's hips.

"Mmm..", Arthur hummed against his lips, their tongues running over each other, Francis furrowing his eyebrows as he felt Arthur rock his hips slightly.

Arthur began to grind against him, his hips rolling against him strongly. Francis groaned against his lips, pulling back to pant, Arthur grinning at him devilishly as he rocked his hips against him. Francis felt him slide his hands down his chest, his fingers brushing over his skin lightly.

A trail of slight tingling sensations were left behind where Arthur's fingers touched, Francis staring into Arthur's deep green eyes as his hands traveled lower. His hands ran to his hips, his fingers hooking around the waistline.

* * *

><p>Eventually they were both bare of clothes, the comforter on the floor with their clothes, Arthur below Francis once more, their lips moving together passionately. Francis felt like he was going to melt from Arthur's kisses and hands, everywhere they touched, and everywhere they lingered.<p>

Francis pulled back to stare down at Arthur, their eyes locked, small pants repeating from both of them. Francis watched as Arthur's chest rose and fell, his fingers clenched into loose fists by his head, his hands resting on the pillow on each side of his head. He studied the small flush on his cheeks, and his hypnotizing eyes, the small mixtures of black, green, and brown in his irises. A small, shy smile spread slowly over Arthur's lips.

"I love you , Francis whispered as he leaned down to peck him on the lips, "I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." Arthur paused as Francis pulled back to smile down at him, before he laughed lightly.

He wrapped his arms around his neck before he kissed him strongly, "I love you too." Francis smiled before he pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

He ran his hand down his chest and stomach, before he wrapped his fingers around the base of Arthur's erection loosely. Arthur gasped quietly, before he turned scarlet, and raised his hands to wrap his arms around his neck.

He hugged him close before Francis began to run his hand up and down his erection, Arthur twitching. He hid his face in the crook of his neck as Francis slid his hand to the head before lowering it, Arthur moaning quietly.

Francis felt himself grow harder at the sound. He kissed Arthur on the shoulder as he quickened the pace on his hand, the Brit moaning and trembling. He brushed his fingers over the head as he kissed his neck, Arthur's arms loosening around his neck. He fell back onto the pillows, Francis watching his flushed face as he pumped his hand, Arthur whimpering, lifting his hands to hide his face.

Francis leaned over and pressed his lips to his forehead, "Don't hide, I want to see all of you." Arthur slid his hands away, his eyes weakly looking up at Francis, his face flushed. He gasped as Francis squeezed his arousal lightly, his eyes clenching shut.

"Don't do that..", Arthur breathed, his eyes weakly opening to look up at Francis. "Don't do what?", Francis teased before he squeezed again.

"Ah, no! S-Stop..", Arthur panted. Francis laughed lowly before he leaned over to press his lips to Arthur's and began to slide his hand over his erection again.

Arthur pulled away and moaned before he grabbed Francis' hand, "N-No more." Francis paused his hand, Arthur panting. "I want to..pleasure you too..", the Brit trailed off before he lifted Francis' hand away, Francis remaining silent as Arthur sat up.

"Scoot back.", he said. Francis did as he was told, sliding back from Arthur. The Brit followed him, pressing his lips to his strongly before he pulled back.

"O-Open your legs.", he commanded, Francis watching him silently before he spread his legs apart.

Arthur blushed and averted his eyes before returning them to Francis, his lips in an embarrassed smile. He scooted closer to Francis before he returned his lips to him, his hand traveling down his chest and stomach.

He palmed Francis' erection, his hand trembling slightly, his lips moving against Francis' sloppily. Francis grinned against his lips before Arthur curled his fingers around it and began to run them up the base, Francis' smile dropping at the tingling feeling they left.

But it didn't last long, Arthur sliding his hand away as well as his lips before he scooted back. Francis watched as Arthur leaned down and wrapped his fingers around the base once more before he flicked his tongue out, running it over the head.

Francis twitched slightly as Arthur ran his tongue down the skin before he slid it up to the head. He wrapped his tongue around the tip, Francis panting.

He ran his fingers up and down slowly as he sucked on the head, his fingers trembling slightly, Francis biting on his bottom lip to stifle a moan. Arthur twirled his tongue around the tip before he closed his lips around it, lowering his head to take his erection in his mouth.

Francis moaned as Arthur lowered his lips to meet his fingers, his tongue swirling around on the skin, his eyes closed. Francis clenched his fingers as Arthur lifted his head and sucked on the tip before he lowered his head again, his eyes clenching as he met his fingers.

He began to bob his head, his tongue running over the skin, Francis moaning. Arthur lowered his lips to the base, Francis groaning.

"Ah..Arthur..", he panted, feeling his heart accelerate, his hands clenching. Arthur lifted his head and began to pump his hand on his erection, dragging his tongue up the side. Arthur sucked on the head before he took his erection in his mouth once more, bobbing his head as he stroked it strongly, sliding his tongue up the skin.

He lifted his head to suck on the tip once more before he sucked on the side, Francis moaning. He sucked on the skin before he ran his tongue over it, his hand running over his arousal repeatedly, Francis clenching his teeth before he came, moaning lowly.

He panted as Arthur slid his hand away, Francis opening his eyes weakly, the Brit pulling back to smile shyly. Arthur leaned back, onto the pillows, resting his head down on a pillow.

Francis' pants shortened into small breaths as he crawled over him, Arthur watching him. Francis pecked him on the lips and kissed him on the cheek before he pulled back and ran his hand down Arthur's cheek, smiling softly, before he slid his hand down his chest and hooked it underneath his knee, pulling apart his legs gently. Arthur sucked in a breath and hesitated before he spread his legs more open for Francis.

Francis reached over to the night stand before he pulled open the drawer and retrieved the lube, opening the cap before he spread some over his fingers, Arthur watching warily.

Once Francis returned his eyes to Arthur's, he smiled lightly, "I'll be gentle, don't worry." Arthur remained silent, Francis kissing him on the lips lightly as he moved his hand lower.

He prodded a finger against his entrance, Arthur clenching his toes before Francis slid a finger in, Arthur biting back a whimper. He paused, lifting his eyes to Arthur's, noticing them closed, his eyebrows furrowed tightly.

After he added a second finger, Arthur clenched his eyes, a small whimper slipping from him. Francis began to slowly slide them out before pushing them in, pausing once he heard a short sob. He raised his eyes to Arthur, noticing a small tear slide down from his closed eyes. Francis pulled his hand away, afraid he did something wrong.

"Arthur..? Don't cry..", Francis murmured, lifting his free hand to wipe his tear away with his thumb. He kissed him on the forehead, before he lowered his lips to whisper in his ear, "Please..what's the matter?"

"I-I can't. I don't want to be hurt again. I-I don't want _you_ to leave me after this.", Arthur whispered as he opened his eyes, his voice breaking. Francis kissed him on the lips softly, before he rested his forehead on Arthur's, closing his eyes.

"I will never hurt you, and I will_ never_ leave you, Arthur. And I'm not saying this just to have sex with you, I'm saying this because I don't want you to think of me that way, I don't want you to be afraid of ime._ Je t'aime_..", he whispered, before he pressed kisses to his lips and cheeks.

"D-Do you promise?", Arthur breathed, Francis kissing him on the cheek once more. "_I promise._", Francis whispered, Arthur raising his arms to hold Francis' face in his hands before he pressed his lips to Francis'.

Arthur smiled lightly before connecting their lips once more. Francis kissed back before he slid his fingers back in, Arthur wrapping his arms around his neck.

He twisted them and curled them as he moved his lips against Arthur's, Arthur moaning against his lips lightly. Francis slid them in and out as Arthur tightened his arms around his neck, Arthur pulling back to suck in a breath.

Francis pressed them in once more before he slid them out, Arthur panting lightly, opening his eyes to stare into Francis'.

Francis studied the blush on his cheeks and his eyes, noticing the loving, bright shade in them. Francis smiled and kissed him quickly once more before he spread lube over his erection, Arthur running his hands down from his neck to his shoulders, his eyes fixed on Francis' aqua irises.

He gasped lightly at the feeling of Francis' arousal pressing against his entrance, Francis leaning down to kiss and bite him on the neck. Francis slid into Arthur partially, the Frenchman clenching his teeth at how tight it was.

"Uah!", Arthur cried and dropped his hands from Francis' shoulders, onto the sheet beside him, his legs trembling slightly. Francis kissed him on the neck once more before he pushed all the way in, Arthur whimpering before he moaned, Francis pulling back to look at Arthur.

Arthur reached his arms up to grasp Francis' shoulders, his expression weak, his cheeks flushed. "Not..like this..", he breathed, tightening his fingers on his shoulders. Francis smiled down at him before he wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him up into his lap, Arthur's legs on both sides of him.

Francis placed his hands on Arthur's back, Arthur reaching up to slide his arms around his neck. Francis kissed him on the shoulder, and ran his hands up and down Arthur's back reassuringly. Francis smiled lightly at the feeling of Arthur's skin against his own, Arthur tightening his arms around his neck as he buried his face in the crook of his neck.

The smile on Francis' lips faltered as he slid his hands down Arthur's back, to grab onto his ass. He heard a short intake of breath. Francis tightened his fingers on the skin before he spread it apart and gently thrusted into him, Arthur gasping and moaning, wrapping his legs around Francis.

He groaned slightly at the feeling of being inside Arthur, the muscle tight around his erection. It felt hot and wet, Francis furrowing his eyebrows as Arthur moaned, the Brit pulling back to press his lips to Francis'.

Francis moved his lips against Arthur's, the Brit pressing back sloppily. Francis moaned against his lips once he felt Arthur lift himself and drop, their skin meeting with a short slap, small beads of sweat dotting Arthur's legs and arms.

"A-Ah..", Arthur breathed as he lifted himself once more before sliding back down, rocking his hips slightly, his erection rubbing against their stomachs. He moaned, his eyes clenched, his face flushed, beads of sweat on his forehead.

Francis clenched his teeth as Arthur raised himself before dropping back down, Arthur moaning. Francis began to thrust up as Arthur came down, his hands gripping his ass, Arthur moaning. Their skin brushed together as Arthur rocked his hips slightly, raising himself before dropping again. Francis slid his hands around Arthur's back to his hips, kissing his shoulder and neck.

The bed creaked as Arthur rolled them over, the Brit now on top, his legs on both sides of Francis. He was propped up on his calves, his hands resting on Francis' chest. Arthur panted, his eyes weakly closed, his mouth agape. Francis opened his eyes and watched as Arthur positioned himself.

"Nnn..", Arthur bit back a small moan as he lifted himself, his hands pressing down on Francis' chest, before he dropped back down, a loud 'ah' slipping from him. Francis groaned and bit on his bottom lip as Arthur leaned down to press his lips to Francis', his hands sliding underneath the pillow.

Francis moaned against his lips as Arthur lifted his hips and dropped them again, Arthur sliding his tongue past his lips. Their tongues wrestled as Arthur continued to raise and lower his hips as Francis gripped his thighs.

Arthur pulled back to moan as Francis thrusted up into him as he dropped down once more, feeling him rub against his prostate.

"F-Francis..ah..m-more..", he begged as he leaned back and raised his hips once more, Francis thrusting back into him. "Uah! More!", Arthur cried, feeling him press against his prostate, his hands tightening into fists. Their hips met again as Francis bucked his hips up into Arthur, his hands gripping his hips. Arthur craned his head back and moaned, feeling his erection rub against his prostate, his toes clenching. He raised himself before dropping again, Francis groaning.

Arthur slid his legs so his knees were raised, his feet resting on the bed. He leaned back and rested his hands on Francis' knees as he lifted himself before sliding back down, Francis thrusting up into him. He moaned as he raised himself once more.

Francis panted and clenched his eyes as he thrusted up into Arthur as he dropped his hips, a loud moan filling the room from Arthur.

Arthur panted, his hips slowing slightly, sweat dotting his skin, his hips meeting Francis' once more.

Francis rolled them over, Arthur wrapping his arms and legs around him before the Frenchman began to thrust into him at a slower pace, Arthur moaning and panting below him. "Ah! Francis..", Arthur breathed and ran his hands down his back.

The bed creaked below them as Francis rocked his hips against Arthur, their damp skin brushing together repeatedly, a softer, pleasured moan slipping from Arthur. He dropped his arms onto the bed, his hands by his head.

Francis slid his hands over Arthur's forearms, his fingers brushing the inside of the Brit's palms before he intertwined their fingers, their hands linked. He rolled his hips in a slow, pleasurable pace, leaning down to look at Arthur before tenderly pressing his lips to Arthur's.

Their lips passionately moved against one another, Arthur opening his eyes to look at Francis, before he slid them close once more, his toes lightly clenching. Their lips gently pressed together before Arthur pulled away to inhale, Francis kissing him on the forehead and eyelids softly. Francis rocked his hips, Arthur's legs loosening as pleasure ran through him.

"Ah..Francis..it feels..", Arthur breathed, his mouth slightly slack. He tightened his legs around Francis, craning his head back slightly. Francis leaned down to kiss him on the neck, biting on the skin softly. "A-Ah! F-Francis!", Arthur moaned before he came, his back arching slightly, his hands tightening on Francis'.

Francis panted as he felt his peak coming closer, rocking his hips in stronger thrusts, his eyebrows furrowing. He groaned as he came, Arthur tightening his legs around Francis. Their hands loosened, Arthur's fingers lightly resting on Francis'.

Both of them were panting as Francis pulled out, Arthur opening his eyes to look up at Francis. Arthur smiled lightly as Francis slid his hands away before he leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. He watched as Francis fell by his side, his chest rising and falling. Arthur reached over the side of the bed to grab the comforter and spread it over them, Francis sliding closer to him as he pulled the comforter.

Francis breathed before laughing lightly, sliding his eyelids closed. He reached over to slid his hand over Arthur's, a small smile spreading over Arthur's lips. Arthur turned onto his side to kiss Francis on the lips with a short peck, his breaths still heavy. He propped up on his elbow, to cradle his head in his hand, smiling down lightly at Francis.

They remained silent, Francis looking up at him before he raised his hand to brush it down his cheek, a small smile sliding across his lips. Arthur leaned down to softly press his lips to Francis', feeling him rest his hand on the back of his head as he gently kissed back. Arthur pulled away before laying down next to Francis, his hand tightening on his.

"You want to know, don't you?", he asked, the soft smile on his lips dropping slightly, his eyes fixed on the canopy.

Francis tightened his hand on Arthur's, "I'm slightly curious."

Arthur turned his head to look at him, before he returned his view to the canopy. "Where should I start..", he mumbled as he raised his free hand to run it over his face. "Um..well..first of all, obviously, I'm a..cross-dresser..", he said as he blushed lightly, glancing over at Francis. Francis remained silent.

"I have..since I was in middle school. That was the reason why my father neglected me and left my mother..because he was disappointed in me.", Arthur frowned, "I only cross-dressed because..it was comforting to me and it made me feel safer for some reason..whenever my father forced me to dress in boy's clothing, it made me feel uncomfortable and paranoid for people's opinions and such."

Francis raised their hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of Arthur's hand. "I'm sorry. I wish I could have been there for you..", he whispered before he slid closer to him. Arthur remained silent as he stared at his face, a small smile spreading over his lips before he pulled his hand away from Francis' and slid his hand around his waist, up his back, and pulled him closer.

Francis smiled before he wrapped his arms around Arthur and held him in his arms, Arthur sliding his leg over Francis'.

"Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?", Francis asked, placing his hand on Arthur's head, running his hand through his short hair.

"Well..not really, but I have a question.", Arthur murmured.

"What would you like to know?"

"Why are you okay with this?", Arthur asked before pulling back to look in his eyes. Francis smiled before he kissed him lightly on the lips with a peck, "Have I told you that I'm bisexual?"

"No, of course not.", Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. "I am. So don't worry, oui?", Francis kissed him once more before pulling back and smiling lightly.

"Does this mean..that we're..'together?'", Arthur asked, blush tinting his cheeks lightly.

"In love. And oui, we are, if you wish us to be, amour.", Francis kissed him on the cheek. Arthur flushed a deeper shade, "Are you asking me?"

"Oui."

Arthur remained silent, his ears and cheeks burning. He looked down from Francis' eyes, before he returned them.

"You better not cheat on me."

Francis laughed loudly before smiling, "Of course I won't, mon douce. I love you very much." Arthur raised his hands to hold his face before kissing him on the lips softly.

"I love you too.", Arthur pulled back to smile. Francis smiled before he pressed his lips back to Arthur's as he turned them over, the Frenchman moving over him underneath the covers.

He pulled back to look in Arthur's bottle green irises with silent awe, Arthur sliding his hands up his forearms to hook them around Francis' neck lovingly. Francis leaned down to connect their lips strongly once more, Arthur pressing back.

Their lips overlapped each other passionately, Arthur furrowing his eyebrows. Francis moved his hands up to hold Arthur's face in his hands, pulling back to intake a breath before he returned his lips to Arthur's. Francis felt Arthur run his hands up and down his chest and stomach, his fingers warm and comforting.

Francis slid his tongue past their lips, Arthur panting before he began to slide his tongue over Francis'. Arthur felt himself grow harder as their tongues wrestled, the Brit softly sucking on his tongue as he ran his hands up his chest, feeling his chest hairs brush against his fingers.

He felt his erection press against Francis' stomach, the Frenchman pulling back to laugh breathlessly, his eyes sliding open to look down at Arthur.

"How about a second round?", he asked as he breathed heavily, grinning down at him. Arthur panted lightly, "That sounds wonderful." Francis smiled widely before he leaned down to connect their lips again, his hands sliding down Arthur's stomach.

* * *

><p>End of Part 3<p>

A/N: I laugh every time I write something that has to do with Francis and Johanna. How Francis is always annoyed with her and how he lies that he liked seeing her again. AHAHA. I don't even know.

Thank you all for reading/reviewing! ;u;

* * *

><p><em>Translations:<em>

Oui - Yes

Désolé - Sorry

Quoi - What

Amour - Love

Mon douce - My sweet

Je t'aime - I love you

Beau - Beautiful/Handsome (Beau is for men, belle is for women)


End file.
